HENRY  FRANCIS  HYDE, 


BX  7260    .H92  A34  1881 
Hyde,  Henry  F. ,  d.  1880. 
Reminiscences  of  the  late 
Rev.  Henry  F.  Hyde,  pastor 


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REMINISCENCES 


OF  THE  LATE 


Rev,  henry  F,  HYDE, 


PASTOR  SECOND  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH, 


RocKviLLE,  Conn. 


HARTFORD,  CONN.: 

PRESS  OF  THE  CASE,  LOCKWOOD  ft  BRAINARD  COMPANY. 
1881. 


TO  THE 

SECOND  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH 
IN  ROCKVILLE: 
AND 

OTHER  CHURCHES  TO  WHOM  THE 
LATE  PASTOR 
HAS  MINISTERED  IN  THE  LORD: 
AND  TO  HIS 
LARGE  CIRCLE  OF  PERSONAL  FRIENDS, 
THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME 
IS  AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED. 


NOTE. 


In  gathering  and  arranging  these  "  Reminiscences,"  I  have  taken  an 
affectionate  interest.  The  work  has  seemed  to  prolong  the  companion- 
ship, the  value  of  which  I  was  beginning  to  learn  in  its  loss.  It  has 
been  pleasant  to  call  around  me  the  good  man's  thoughts,  and  to  find 
in  the  communion,  a  new  zest  of  the  friendship. 

Precisely  a  year  is  now  completed  since  the  death :  and  if  it  seems 
a  late  day  for  the  memorial  offering  to  be  made,  an  absence  of  four 
months  from  my  field  of  labor,  and  uncommon  pressure  of  home  work 
the  other  months  of  the  year,  may  be  a  sufficient  explanation. 

Mr.  Hyde's  sermons  will  long  be  remembered  by  those  who  heard 
them.  It  is  to  gratify  such  that  a  few  have  been  selected  for  a  place 
among  the  "  Reminiscences." 

May  the  blessing  of  the  Master  he  served  go  with  them  and  make 
them  still  further  useful ;  while  by  keeping  alive  the  associations,  they 
may  serve,  in  a  sense,  to  keep  the  Pastor  still  present  with  us. 

J.  W.  BACKUS. 

RocKviLLE,  May  28,  1881. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 

FUNERAL  SERVICES. 

PAGE. 

1.  The  Gathering,  -          -          -          -          -         -  9 

2.  Chant — "  Lead  Kindly  Light,"  ....          -  9 

3.  Hymn,  .......  jo 

4.  Reading  the  Scriptures,  .          .          .          -          -  lo 

5.  Remarks  by  Rev.  Francis  Williams,  Chaplain,  -  ..11 

6.  Remarks  by  Rev.  G.  L  Wood,  Ellington,   -  -         -  16 

7.  Remarks  by  Rcv^.  Prof.  Thompson,  Theo.  Sem.,  Hartford,  .  17 

8.  Remarks  by  Rev.  J.  W.  Backus,  Rockville,  -         -  19 

9.  Prayer,  .......  20 

10.  Singing — Hymn,  ......  20 

11.  Burial,  -          -          -          .          .          .  -21 


PART  II. 


TRIBUTES  FROM  FRIENDS. 

1.  Rev.  Samuel  E.  Herrick,  D.D.,  Boston,  Mass.,        -  -  25 

2.  Judge  R.  B.  Archibald,  Jacksonville,  Fla.,    -  •        -  -  27 

3.  E.  L.  G.,  Jacksonville,  Fla.,    -          -          .          -  -  28 

4.  Mr.  Wayland  Spaulding,  Mont  Clair,  N.  J.,    -          -  -  29 

5.  Mr.  T.  D.  Goodell,  Hartford,  -          -          -          -  -  31 

6.  Last  Hours,  .-.----31 

7.  Rev.  J.   W.   Backus— Memorial   Discourse,   preached  in 

Methodist  Church,  union  service,  June  20,  1880,   -  -  34 


VIII 


CONTENTS. 


PART  III. 

SERMONS. 

I. 

PAGE. 

Elements  of  Christianity,     -----  51 

(Preached,  Pomfret,  Aug.  6,  1871.) 
II. 

The  Son  of  Man  :  or  Christ's  Humanity,  in  its  Relation 

TO  us,        -         -         -         -         -         -         -  65 

(Preached,  Rockville,  Aug.  23,  1874.) 

III. 

The  Lord's  Prayer,      ------  78 

(Preached,  Rockville,  June  2,  1878.) 
IV. 

Christ's  Estimate  of  the  Worth  of  a  Man,       -         -  89 

(Preached,  Rockville,  Union  Service,  Nov.  16,  1879.) 
V. 

Single-Mindedness  in  Religion,       -         -         -        -  loi 

(Preached,  Rockville,  Jan.  18,  1880.) 
VI. 

Christ's  Call  to  the  Unconverted,         -         -         -  113 

(Preached,  Rockville,  Union  Service,  Feb.  15,  1880.) 
VII. 

Easter  Thoughts,        -         -         -         -         -         -  126 

(Preached,  Rockville,  March  28,  1880.) 


FUNERAL  SERVICES. 


THE  GATHERING. 

The  31st  day  of  May,  1880,  was  a  day  of  universal  sorrow 
in  Rockville.  As  the  hour  of  the  funeral  solemnities  ap- 
proached, there  was  a  stir  in  all  the  streets.  Slowly  and 
sadly  the  gathering  multitudes  found  their  way  into  the 
church,  till  all  its  available  space  was  occupied.  A  short 
introductory  prayer  at  the  house,  and  the  coffin  was  taken 
by  the  six  Deacons,  and  tenderly  borne  to  the  front  of  the 
Pulpit,  where  it  was  awaited  by  the  large  assembly.  And 
even  before  this,  while  the  casket  was  moving  up  the  aisle, 
and  as  if  it  gave  out  the  words  itself,  the  choir  took  up  the 
rendering  in  the  following  Chant  and  Hymn  : 

CHANT. 

Lead  kindly  Light,  amid  tli'  encircling  gloom,  lead  thou  me  on  ! 
The  night  i.s  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home  ;  lead  thou  me  on  ! 
Keep  thou  my  feet ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;  one  step's  enough  for  me. 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  thou  should'st  lead  me  on : 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path  ;  but  now  lead  thou  me  on  ! 
1  loved  the  garish  day,  and  spite  of  fears 
Pride  ruled  my  will  :  remember  not  past  years  ! 

So  long  thy  power  hath  blessed  me,  sure  it  still  will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till  the  night  is  gone, 
And  with  the  morn  those  Angel  faces  smile. 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since  and  lost  awhile. 


2 


10 


HYMN. 

When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross, 
On  which  the  Prince  of  glory  died, 

My  richest  gain  I  count  but  loss, 
And  pour  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 

Forbid  it.  Lord,  that  I  should  boast, 
Save  in  the  death  of  Clirist,  my  God  ; 

All  the  vain  things  that  charm  me  most, 
I  sacrifice  tliem  to  his  Ijlood. 

See,  from  his  head,  his  hands,  his  feet, 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down  : 

Did  e'ei  such  love  and  sorrow  meet. 
Or  thorns  compose  so  rich  a  crown  ? 

Were  all  the  realm  of  nature  mine, 
That  were  a  present  far  too  small; 

Love  so  ama/iiig,  so  divine, 

Demands  my  soul,  my  life,  my  all. 


READING  OF  THE  SCRIPTURES. 
Bv  Rk\.  R.  Puvf.v. 

Acts  XX  :  17-38. — And  from  Miletus  he  sent  to  Ephesus,  and  called 
the  elders  of  the  church. 

And  when  they  were  come  to  him,  he  said  unto  them.  Ye  know,  from 
the  first  day  that  1  came  into  Asia,  after  what  manner  I  have  been  with 
you  at  all  seasons, 

Serving  tiie  Lord  with  all  humility  of  mind,  and  with  many  tears,  and 
temptations,  which  befell  me  by  the  lying  in  wait  of  the  Jews  : 

A  mi  hovi  I  kept  back  nothing  that  was  profitable  tDito  you,  but  have 
shewed  you,  and  have  taught  you  publicly,  and  from  house  to  house, 

Testifying  both  to  the  Jews,  and  also  to  the  Greeks,  repentance  to- 
ward God,  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

And  now,  behold,  I  go  bound  in  the  spirit  unto  Jerusalem,  not  know- 
ing the  things  that  shall  befall  me  there : 

Save  that  the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  every  city,  saying  that  bonds 
and  aftlictions  abide  me. 


1 1 

But  none  of  these  things  move  me,  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto 
myself,  so  that  I  might  finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry, 
which  I  have  received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God. 

And  now,  behold,  1  know  tliat  ye  all,  among  wliom  I  have  gone  preach- 
ing the  kingdom  oi  Ciod,  sliall  see  my  face  no  more. 

Wherefore  I  take  you  to  record  this  day,  that  I  am  pure  from  the 
blood  of  all  Mcn. 

For  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare  unto  you  all  the  counsel  of  God. 

Take  heed  therefore  unto  yourselves,  and  to  all  the  flock,  over  the 
which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  overseers,  to  feed  the  church  of 
God,  which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood. 

For  1  know  this,  that  after  my  departing  shall  grievous  wolves  enter 
in  among  you,  not  sparing  the  flock. 

Also  of  your  own  selves  shall  men  arise,  speaking  perverse  things,  to 
draw  away  disciples  after  them. 

Therefore  watch,  and  remember,  that  by  the  space  of  three  years  I 
ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with  tears. 

And  now,  brethren,  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  his 
grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to  give  you  an  inheritance 
among  all  them  which  are  sanctified. 

I  have  coveted  no  man's  silver,  or  gold,  or  apparel. 

Yea,  ye  yourselves  know,  that  these  hands  have  ministered  unto  my 
necessities,  and  to  them  that  were  with  me. 

I  have  shewed  you  all  things,  how  that  so  labouring  ye  ought  to  sup- 
port the  weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he 
said.  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive. 

And  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  kneeled  down,  and  prayed  with 
them  all. 

And  they  all  wept  sore,  and  fell  on  Paul's  neck,  and  kissed  him. 
Sorrowing  most  of  all  for  the  words  which  he  spake,  that  they  should 
see  his  face  no  more.    And  they  accompanied  him  unto  the  ship. 


ADDRESS. 

By  Rev.  Francis  Williams,  Chaplin. 

Our  deceased  friend  I  have  long  esteemed  and  loved.  He 
was  a  native  of  Killingly,  in  the  county  in  which  almost  all 
my  ministerial  life  has  been  spent.  Here,  also,  in  his  native 
county,  he  passed  two  pastorates,  bringing  me  into  most  inti- 


12 


mate  and  various  relations  with  him.  I  may  therefore  speak 
the  more  freely  and  confidently  on  this  funeral  occasion.  I 
knew  him  while  a  member  of  the  Theological  Institute  of 
Connecticut,  and  knew  of  the  high  hopes  entertained  of  his 
future  prominence  and  success  in  his  chosen  life-work.  I 
saw  him  under  the  examination  of  the  Visiting  Board,  and 
recognized  that  clearness  and  accuracy  of  thought  and  rea- 
soning by  which  he  was  characterized. 

As  a  member  of  the  Council  in  West  Woodstock,  by  which 
he  was  ordained  and  installed,  I  heard  him  give  his  experi- 
ence of  the  love  and  grace  of  God,  his  call  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  and  saw  his  ability  to  state  and  defend  his  theologi- 
cal views  and  belief.  H  is  expositions  of  divine  truth  exhibited 
the  Bible  as  his  supreme  authority,  in  all  that  pertained  to  his 
belief  and  modes  of  labor.  Of  his  soundness  in  the  faith 
there  could  be  no  doubt.  He  loved  souls  for  whom  Christ 
died,  and  felt  that  his  work  was  to  seek  their  salvation.  To 
win  lost  men  to  the  Saviour,  and  furnish  them  with  the  truth 
through  which  they  were  to  be  sanctified,  was  his  .  supreme 
object. 

I  think  I  have  never  seen  a  student,  fresh  from  the  semi- 
nary, who  sustained  a  better  examination,  and  to  whom  his 
brethren  gave  a  more  cordial  right-hand  of  fellowship,  than 
to  our  good  brother  Hyde.  Rfev.  Dr.  Vermilye  of  the  Hart- 
ford Theological  Seminary,  preached  the  sermon.  He  has 
gone  before  him,  leaving  a  saintly  memory,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  they  have  already  met  in  that  world  of  blessedness  for 
which  they  were  preparing  others. 

His  brief  ministry  among  his  people  at  West  Woodstock, 
was  successful  ;  he  was  highly  appreciated  and  loved,  and 
would  have  continued  could  his  attached  people  have  retained 
him.  As  might  have  been  expected,  it  was  not  long  before 
a  stronger  parish  sought  his  labors,  and  called  him  to  be  their 
pastor  and  teacher.  He  felt  that  the  Lord  called  him  to  ac- 
cept their  invitation,  and  become  pastor  of  the  old  and  hon- 
ored church  in  Pomfret.  As  a  member  of  the  installing 
council  I  saw  that  he  was  a  growing  man  and  Christian, 
ripening  in  those  excellences  which  make  a  good  friend  and 


'3 


pastor.  Able  and  prompt  in  all  duties  assigned  him  in  our 
county-meetings,  his  reputation  widened  and  strengthened  in 
our  ministerial  circle,  and  among  our  churches.  He  was  one 
of  our  best  preachers,  genial  also  in  our  association  with  him. 
Never  dictatorial,  non-assuming,  he  won  our  love. 

We  knew  him,  not  only  as  a  careful  reader  of  the  best 
works  in  theology,  but  as  a  critic  of  excellent  taste  in  all  the 
literature  with  which  our  profession  needs  to  be  familiar  and 
accurate.  In  the  higher  order  of  literature,  he  was  an  exten- 
sive and  appreciative  reader.  The  Windham  County  Trans- 
cript, the  local  paper  of  his  native  town,  received  many 
contributions  from  his  pen,  and  his  excellent  review  of  books 
and  periodicals  as  they  came  from  the  press  was  a  source  of 
much  pleasure  and  profit  to  the  readers  of  that  able  county 
paper. 

When  this  church  in  Rockville  called  him  to  the  pastorate, 
there  was  much  regret  at  the  prospect  of  our  loss,  with  the 
assurance  that  you  would  obtain  a  strong,  good  man,  if  you 
secured  him.  His  people  held  him  strongly  and  would 
have  retained  him,  but  his  own  convictions  of  duty  led  him 
to  think  God  called  him  to  this  new  field  of  labor,  and  we 
felt,  however  great  our  loss,  the  will  of  God  be  done.  We 
knew  he  was  well  fitted  to  sustain  himself  in  this  important 
and  enlarged  field  of  labor,  and  to  be  largely  useful  among 
you.  Of  his  labors  here  I  need  not  speak  ;  the  many  expres- 
sions- of  your  love  to  him  and  his  bereaved  family  ;  this  large 
audience  assembled,  show  most  plainly  that  you  feel  a  heavy 
loss  as  you  realize  that  his  labors  with  you  are  ended.  But 
his  loss  is  deeply  felt  beyond  the  parish-lines  where  his 
labor  was  mostly  expended.  In  our  State  Associations  and 
Conferences  he  was  becoming  known  and  appreciated.  Had 
his  life  been  spared,  we  feel  that  he  would  have  risen  higher 
and  higher  in  public  estimation  and  honor. 

A  few  years  since  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees  in  the  Theological  Seminary  from  which  he 
graduated.  Associated  with  him  in  this  body,  it  was  easy  to 
perceive  that  he  was  an  important  acquisition  to  the  trust. 
What  such  an  institution  should  accomplish,  and  what  were 


14 


the  best  methods  of  securing  the  end  designed  were  well 
mapped  out  in  his  mind. 

This  very  year  he  was  appointed  one  of  the  Board  of  Vis- 
itors at  the  Anniversary,  but  when  we  met,  he  was  not  pres- 
ent, and  we  learned  that  illness  detained  him.  He  was  also 
to  give  the  annual  address  before  the  Alumni  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  we  found  the  man  always  prompt  to  fulfil,  his 
appointments,  was  necessarily  absent.  How  little  we  thought 
then,  that  we  had  met  him  for  the  last  time  in  that  institution 
of  sacred  learning.  But  the  Master,  who  never  mistakes, 
soon  called  our  dear  Brother  to  come  up  higher.  He  heard 
the  call,  bowed  in  sweet  submission  to  the  divine  will,  com- 
mitted his  family  and  people,  all  he  held  dear  upon  earth,  to 
the  care  of  the  blessed  Master,  and  girded  himself  to  pass 
over  Jordan,  to  enter  the  Canaan  of  rest. 

You  have  lost  an  excellent  preacher  from  your  pulpit ;  a 
valued  pastor  from  your  congregation  ;  an  excellent  citizen 
from  your  community.  When  you  bear  the  precious  remains 
of  our  dear  Brother  to  your  pleasant  Cemetery,  and  when, 
again  and  again  you  visit  that  hallowed  resting  place,  and 
mark  the  spot  where  your  loved  pastor  sleeps,  remember  the 
words  he  spake  while  he  was  with  you,  and  that  he  being 
dead  yet  speaketh. 

As  almost  a  life-long  friend  of  the  family,  now  so  deeply 
bereaved,  let  me  say :  you  have  the  deepest  sympathy  of  this 
great  assembly,  and  of  your  many  friends,  here  and  elsewhere. 
His  large  Bible  class,  whom  he  so  faithfully  instructed,  may 
well  sit  as  mourners,  and  tenderly  drop  the  flowers  of  sweet 
remembrance  into  yon  hallowed  grave. 

You  have  lost  a  most  tender  and  devoted  husband  ;  a 
father  whose  heart  and  prayers  went  up  for  the  kind  care  and 
protection  of  the  Heavenly  Father  ;  a  son,  who  in  filial  duty 
and  love  sought  your  best  welfare  ;  a  brother,  of  whom  you 
had  every  reason  to  know  that  a  heart  is  now  stilled,  which 
ever  beat  with  true  fraternal  love.  We  commend  this  be- 
reaved widow,  these  orphaned  children,  this  widowed  mother, 
these  brothers  and  sisters,  to  the  care  of  one  who  careth  for 
you.    We  commend  this  church  and  congregation  to  the 


15 


keeping  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  His  place  among  you  is 
vacant ;  think  not  of  him  as  sleeping  in  the  silent  grave,  but 
as  a  glorified  spirit  in  the  presence  of  the  dear  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour. For  him  to  live  was  Christ,  and  to  die  gain.  He 
has  doubtless  seen  the  king  in  his  beauty  ;  has  heard  the 
"  Well  done  ;"  has  joined  the  song  of  the  redeemed  ;  has  met 
sainted  associates  in  the  ministry  ;  parishioners  whom  he 
followed  to  the  silent  resting-place  ;  souls  saved  under  his 
ministry  ;  and  the  little  son,  who  passed  on  before  him.  His 
joy  is  full.  Let  your  sorrow  be  in  quiet  submission  to  the 
dear  Lord  who  has  taken  your  loved  one,  and  who  doeth  all 
things  well. 

When  the  Martyr,  Nathan  Hale,  perished  amid  cruelties 
and  heartlessness  which  no  civilized  nation  should  suffer  in  her 
armies,  it  is  said  his  father  aro.se  in  the  prayer-meeting,  while 
all  was  hushed  to  stillness  at  the  news  of  the  heavy  tidings, 
and  said,  "  You  will  not  expect  me  this  evening  to  say  much, 
you  have  all  heard  of  my  terrible  bereavement,  and  of  the 
distressing  circumstances  attending  the  death  of  my  son. 
But  this  I  will  say ;  the  time  when,  the  place  where,  and  the 
manner  how  our  friends  are  called  from  us  is  of  very  little 
consequence,  all  is  just  as  our  Heavenly  Father  appoints,  and 
all  is  well.  His  will  be  done."  Such  sweet  submission  is 
beautiful,  scriptural,  and  truly  consoling  to  the  bereaved,  and 
it  must  be  highly  pleasing  to  our  Jrleavenly  Father.  God  never 
makes  a  mistake,  never  does  what  he  afterwards  regrets. 
When  he  has  seen  all  your  tears,  your  loneliness,  your  sense 
of  loss,  he  would  do  the  same  thing  over  again.  He  says  to 
you,  "  All  is  best.  Trust  me."  But  for  your  comfort,  he  ten- 
derly says  to  you,  "  All  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God."  "  For  your  light  affliction,  which  is 
but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  yoji  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory."  He  does  not  willingly  afflict  nor 
grieve  his  children  ;  as  a  tender  father  he  pities  ;  pities  all  who 
fear  him.    Only  trust  him  and  all  shall  be  well. 


i6 


ADDRESS. 
Rev.  G.  I.  Wood,  Ellington. 

The  deep  and  unaffected  grief,  so  evident  on  the  face  of 
this  entire  assembly,  composed  not  only  of  the  members  of 
the  various  denominations  in  Rockville,  but  of  so  many  of  the 
ministers  and  representatives  of  the  churches  of  this  county ; 
the  unbought  love  and  sympathy  of  this  great  multitude  of 
children  filling  this  entire  gallery  ;  the  unbidden  tears  which 
drop  upon  and  around  this  precious  casket, — these  are  the 
decorations  which  we  bring  to-day,  to  lay  on  the  grave  of  this 
good  and  faithful  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ.* 

Our  deepest  and  most  sacred  emotions  are  those  which  can- 
not be  expressed  in  words.  The  stillness,  the  silence,  of  this 
assembly,  is  so  much  more  expressive  than  any  words  which 
I  can  employ,  that  I  hardly  feel  willing  to  break  this  silence 
by  adding  anything  to  what  has  already  been  said. 

I  may  say,  however,  that  the  speaker  who  preceded  me 
was  guilty  of  no  presumption  when  he  said  that  he  thought 
he  might  assure  this  bereaved  and  afflicted  church  of  the 
deep  and  wide-spread  sympathy  of  all  the  churches  and  the 
ministers  of  this  vicinity.  The  sacred  and  peculiar  grief  of 
this  bereaved  family,  now  without  husband  or  father,  is  some- 
thing to  which  it  is  beyond  our  power  to-minister  consolation. 
We  need  not  and  we  shall  not  try  to  do  this.  Our  Lord  and 
Master,  we  are  very  confident,  will  give  them  all  needed  com- 
fort and  support  in  this  dark  and  trying  hour. 

There  is  one  thing  about  our  departed  brother,  and  only 
one,  of  which  I  will  venture  to  speak.  There  was  in  his 
character  a  remarkable  combination  and  harmony  of  two  very 
diverse  elements  which  are  often  considered  antagonistic,  and 
which  are  rarely  harmonized  so  completely  in  one  person  ; 
and  it  is  this  which  made  him  so  good  a  soldier  of  the 
cross.  He  was  a  man  of  courage  and  strength — never  afraid 
to  utter  his  honest  convictions — and  yet  he  was  of  a  gentle 
and  tender  spirit.    He  had  much  of  the  charity  of  the  gospel, 

*  The  funeral  was  held  on  Decoration  Day. 


17 


while  he  was  not  lacking  in  any  of  the  elements  of  masculine 
power. 

It  requires  but  little  aid  from  the  imagination,  to  hear  from 
out  of  the  invisible  world  around  us,  the  voice  of  the  Great 
Captain  of  our  salvation,  as  he  looks  down  upon  the  cold  and 
silent  form  enshrined  in  this  casket,  saying,  "  Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord." 


ADDRESS. 

Dr.  Wm.  Thomi'son,  Hartford  Theological  Seminary. 

On  entering  our  seminary  in  the  fall  of  1861,  Mr.  Hyde 
became  a  class-mate  of  my  son  William  A.  They  soon 
found  themselves  warm  friends.  Harmonious  views,  tastes, 
and  purposes  gave  to  their  student-life  a  charm  never  to  be 
forgotten.  The  same  unselfish  motives  inspired  each  in  the 
good  work  of  the  ministry.  Both  labored  under  the  disad- 
vantage of  precarious  health.  Both  fell  in  the  midst  of  pas- 
toral labors,  leaving  untarnished  names  and  sorrowful  flocks 
mourning  the  loss  of  faithful  and  devoted  guides.  Of  the 
two,  Mr.  Hyde's  ministry  was  the  longest  by  five  years. 

"  'Tis  sweet  as  year  by  year  we  lose 
Friends  out  of  sight,  in  faith  to  muse 
How  grows  in  Paradise  our  store." 

Mr.  Hyde's  characteristics,  when  a  student  at  East  Wind- 
sor, made  a  happy  impression  on  his  teachers  and  associates. 
Without  conceit  or  forwardness,  he  thought  for  himself  and 
called  no  man  master.  No  one  excelled  him  as  an  example 
of  patient,  earnest  application  to  the  prescribed  course  of 
study.  He  lost  no  time  in  day-dreams  and  frivolous  conver- 
sation. While  eager  for  knowledge,  he  never  forgot  that  the 
aspirant  for  the  gospel  ministry  should  be  in  his  governing 
purpose,  his  spirit  and  manner  of  life,  a  man  of  God.  The 
cultivation  of  Christian  graces  seemed  to  him  no  less  essen- 
tial than  other  prerequisites  for  a  bishop.  Failure  here  would 
3 


i8 


have  made  all  other  accomplishments  no  better  than  sounding 
brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal. 

The  social,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  qualities  that  marked 
Mr.  Hyde's  seminary  life  were  sure  to  win  the  confidence, 
affection,  and  respect  so  widely  accorded  him  in  after  years. 
I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him  preach,  and  seldom 
met  him  till  he  was  settled  in  Rockville,  but  from  time  to 
time  I  heard,  through  competent  witnesses,  that  he  was  covet- 
ous of  the  best  gifts  and  stood  in  the  front  rank  of  the  rising 
ministry.  For  eight  years  our  board  of  seminary  trustees 
was  fortunate  in  having  him  as  a  colleague.  His  quick  per- 
ception, self-control,  sound  judgment,  and  genial  temper  fitted 
him  to  act  wisely  and  efficiently  in  administering  a  public 
trust.  When  Dr.  Vermilye's  health  became  seriously  im- 
paired and  a  temporary  assistant  in  the  theological  department 
was  needed,  Mr.  Hyde's  services  were  solicited,  and  proved 
quite  satisfactory.  The  arrangement  illustrated  the  liberality 
of  the  Second  Church  in  Rockville,  and  the  self-sacrificing 
spirit  of  their  pastor,  who  cheerfully  assumed  a  heavy  burden 
in  addition  to  the  ordinary  labors  of  a  large  parish. 

When  public  sentiment  in  our  churches  shall  demand  that 
committees  of  supply  look  for  candidates  corresponding  to 
the  models  .set  forth  in  the  Pastoral  Epistles,  such  ministers 
as  Mr.  Hyde  will  be  welcomed  to  influential  pulpits,  rather 
than  men  of  unsettled  views,  equipped  with  "the  wisdom  of 
words,"  and  who  "  can  play  well  on  an  instrument."  Of  Mr. 
Hyde,  and  such  as  he,  one  is  reminded  when  reading  Paul's 
description  of  an  approved  Elder,  who  is  "  apt  to  teach,"  not 
"self  willed,"  "not  soon  angry,"  "not  given  to  wine,"  "not 
given  to  filthy  lucre,"  but  "  sober,  just,  holy,  temperate," 
"holding  fast  the  faithful  word." 

The  Lord  of  the  harvest  multiply  such  laborers  a  thousand 
fold! 


19 


ADDRESS. 
Rev.  J.  W.  B.,  Rockville. 

Rev.  Mr.  Backus,  having  read  extracts  from  Mr.  Hyde's 
last  Easter  sermon,  preached  March  28,  the  last  he  preached 
to  his  own  people,  remarked  substantially  as  follows : — 
This  seems  prophetic.  These  thoughts  gathered  round  him 
then,  as  these  flowers  do  now.  They  seem  animated  by  the 
music  of  heaven.  Since  then,  eight  weeks  have  passed,  in 
the  retirement  of  the  sick  room.  They  have  been  weeks 
of  suffering  and  anxiety,  but  nothing  has  thrown  him  from 
his  natural  poise  and  self-possession  in  God.  He  has  read 
the  papers,  as  usual,  and  conversed  upon  the  news  of  the 
day,  the  political  conventions,  the  Whittaker  trial,  the  famine 
in  Ireland,  the  new  British  Ministry,  Lord  Beaconsfield  and 
Mr.  Gladstone.  He  has  talked  Theology,  noting  especially 
the  particular  doctrines  of  New  England  Theology  that  have 
had  special  emphasis  at  particular  times  during  the  past 
century.  In  the  literary  world  he  has  talked  of  the  American 
Book  Exchange,  the  "  Standard  Series,"  the  books  published  by 
them,  canvassed  the  merits  and  demerits  of  their  mechanical 
execution,  noticed  the  popular  benefits  that  might  be  expected 
of  them.  He  looked  at  a  new  book,  as  he  would  a  new- 
blown  flower.  His  good-natured  humor  did  not  forsake  him. 
His  labored  efforts  at  walking,  he  would  characterize  as  a  bad 
"walk  and  conversation."  A  new  development  of  his  dis- 
ease, he  would  call  a  new  evidence  of  depravity.  But  he  did 
not  for  a  moment  forget  that  the  Lord's  hand  was  upon  him. 
"  Is  it  not  strange,"  he  would  ask,  "  that  we  need  so  much 
trial  in  order  to  make  anything  of  us  ? "  "  I  never  saw  the 
value  of  trial  so  clearly  before."  He  thought  it  would  make 
a  better  minister  of  him.  This  was  the  extent  of  his  ambi- 
tion, to  be  a  better  minister.  His  mind  was  constantly  at 
work  upon  sermon  thoughts  and  pastoral  methods.  Referring 
one  morning  to  his  wakeful  night,  he  said,  "  I  wrote  two  ser- 
mons last  night  and  an  article  for  the  newspaper." 

Last  Tuesday  morning,  the  step  of  the  death  messenger  was 


20 


in  the  house,  and  a  seraph  was  there  also  touching  his  hps  with 
new  speech.  Hope  revived,  however,  and  friends  sung  to 
him,  "  Rock  of  Ages,"  "  My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee,"  "  Jesus, 
lover  of  my  soul."  This  was  the  anointing  for  his  burial. 
Thursday  morning  it  was  evident  he  was  near  his  end.  His 
will  was  made.  Being  read  to  him  for  correction,  he  noted  this 
mistake:  "I  give  myself  to  my  Lord  and  Saviour;"  "No," 
said  he,  "  not  I  give,  but  I  have  given.  I  did  it  long  ago." 
He  gave  his  dying  charge  and  blessing  to  his  children, 
thought  he  should  know  Ernest,  the  babe  in  heaven,  bore 
witness  that  his  "  sickness  had  been  worth  all  that  it  had 
cost,"  and  went  out  to  meet  the  Bridegroom. 


PRAYER.— By  Rev.  J.  W.  Backus. 


HYMN. 

Over  tlie  crjstal  river 

We  meet  to  part,  no,  never; 
Where  tears  are  dried  forever, 

Where  friendsiiip  ne'er  will  sever. 
Oh,  Paradise  1  Oh,  Paradise  I 
We  long  for  thee,  Oh,  Paradise. 

Angels  are  ever  watching 

O'er  friends  that  dwell  below; 
They  hover  round  our  pathway, 
God's  love  to  us  they  show. 

Oh,  Paradise!  Oh,  Paradise! 
We  long  for  thee,  Oh,  Paradise. 

Mourn  not  for  lov'd  ones  gone. 

For  they  have  reached  the  shore : 
They've  only  gone  before, 
To  open  wide  the  door. 

Oh,  Paradise!   Oh,  Paradise! 
We  long  for  thee,  Oh,  Paradise. 


21 


THE  BURIAL. 

The  long  procession  moved.  And  though  the  hush  of 
other  Hfe  seemed  the  more  perceptible,  yet  the  crowd  of 
"  Easter  thoughts"  by  the  way,  bore  down  upon  us  irresist- 
ably,  and  gave  us  courage  for  the  burial.  At  the  grave,  one 
could  easily  imagine  the  May  birds  had  found  the  resur- 
rection thought,  and  were  chanting  it,  in  their  own  sweet 
way.  The  coffin  was  lowered  to  its  resting  place,  and  buried 
in  flowers.  What  could  be  expected  at  that  instant,  but  the 
soft  outbreak  of  tremulous  song  : 

"  Asleep  in  Jesus — blessed  sleep." 

A  few  fitting  words  were  added,  by  Rev.  A.  R.  Nichols,  of 
Springfield,  Mass.,  classmate  of  the  deceased,  and  the  service 
was  closed  with  the  benediction. 


PART  II. 


TRIBUTES  FROM  FRIENDS. 


Letter  from  Rev.  S.  E.  Herrick,  D.D. 

Boston,  February  i,  1881. 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Hyde  : 

Permit  me  to  put  in  the  form  of  a  letter  to  you  what  I 
would  like  to  say  concerning  your  husband  : 

My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Hyde  dates  back  to  the  year 
1856,  when  we  were  boys  together  in  the  sophomore  class  at 
Amherst.  Owing  to  several  causes,  that  acquaintance  ripened 
into  great  intimacy.  Our  names  standing  side  by  side  upon 
the  prayer-bill,  we  occupied  adjacent  seats  at  daily  prayers, 
in  chapel  on  the  Sabbath,  and  several  times  every  day  in  the 
class-room.  Not  unfrequently  we  recited  from  the  same 
book.  His  far  superior  scholarship  has,  how  often,  stood 
me  in  good  stead  and  prevented  me  from  disgraceful  failure 
by  such  timely  hints  as  school-boys  know  how  to  give  one 
another.  I  owe  him  much  more  in  many  ways  than  this 
letter  will  be  able  to  tell.  For  some  part  of  our  course  our 
rooms  were  adjacent,  and  the  long  talks  on  all  sorts  of 
subjects,  often  prolonged  far  into  the  night,  and  sometimes 
resumed  before  we  were  up  in  the  morning,  through  the  thin 
lath-and-plaster  walls  of  East  College,  are  remembered  still 
by  me  as  not  least  among  the  healthful  educating  influences 
of  college  days  at  Amherst.  I  was  so  much  younger  than 
he,  and  he  was  so  much  stronger  than  I,  that  his  influence 
was  formative.  I  owe  to  him  almost  entirely  a  love  for 
literature,  which  he  inspired  and  taught  me  how  to  feed  in  a 
healthful  way,  which  has  been  an  increasing  delight  and 
comfort  to  me  through  all  these  years.  I  do  not  think  it  any 
disparagement  to  our  teachers  to  say  that  I  then  thought, 
4 


26 


and  still  think,  that  there  was  no  one  among  them  who  was 
so  competent  to  fill  the  chair  of  Belles  Lettres  and  English 
Literature,  as  Mr.  Hyde  was,  at  any  time  in  his  college 
course.  His  reading  had  been  very  extensive,  and  his  knowl- 
edge was  exact,  his  memory  retentive,  his  literary  judgment 
generally  unerring.  He  had  the  literary  instinct.  He  had 
that  rare  gift  of  discerning  almost  intuitively  the  good  and 
the  evil  without  a  sifting  examination.  You  might  have  led 
him  into  the  most  promiscuous  library  and  he  would  have 
lighted  upon  the  good  in  it,  with  the  precision  of  a  bee  upon 
a  honey-laden  blossom  in  a  field  of  weeds.  His  taste  was 
sensitive  and  pure.  I  think  in  those  days,  though  he  read 
very  broadly,  his  favorites  were  Charles  Lamb  and  Prof. 
Wilson  among  the  lighter  essayists,  Tennyson  and  Mrs. 
Barrett-Browning  among  the  poets,  and  Jeremy  Taylor  of 
religious  writers.  History  of  all  writers  he  loved  without 
much  partiality.  Having  the  power  of  historic  imagination 
to  a  large  degree,  he  only  needed  to  get  the  facts  ;  he  could 
put  in  the  garb  and  scenery,  the  coloring  and  atmosphere  for 
himself. 

Had  he  chosen  to  give  himself  up  to  literature  as  a  profes- 
sion, he  might  have  been  better  known  to  the  world.  Multi- 
tudes yield  to  its  attractions  who  have  not  a  tithe  of  his 
adaptations  for  such  a  career.  But  to  that  "  High  Calling  of 
God"  which  he  heard  in  the  earliest  days  of  his  Christian 
life  he  was  stedfastly  loyal.  He  never  thought  for  a  moment 
of  the  laurel  crown,  which  those  who  knew  him  best  saw  to 
be  easily  within  his  reach. 

Others  will  speak  of  him  as  a  Minister  better  than  I  can. 
I  have  met  him  but  seldom  since  we  separated  for  our  life- 
work.  But  the  pleasant  memories  of  his  guilelessness,  his 
good  humor,  his  clean  and  refreshing  fun,  his  keen,  whole- 
some, never  ill-tempered  criticism,  and,  above  all,  his  fidelity 
to  truth  and  his  loyalty  to  Christ  will  abide  with  me  as  a  life- 
long blessing — a  joy  forever. 

Yours  with  tenderest  sympathy, 

SAMUEL  E.  HERRICK. 


27 


Letter  from  Judge  R.  B.  Archibald,  Jacksonville, 
Florida. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hyde  : 

My  admiration  for  Mr.  Hyde,  and  the  great  obligation  I 
feel,  and  shall  always  feel,  for  inestimable  services  rendered 
me  by  him,  demand  of  me  a  word  of  affectionate  testimony 
for  the  memorial  volume. 

His  arrival  about  five  years  ago  in  Jacksonville,  to  assume 
the  duties  of  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church,  was  quite 
an  event  to  the  little  community  who  had  organized  that 
church  society.  Mr.  Hyde  was  their  first  minister,  and  none 
of  them  had  ever  seen  him.  So  the  interest  was  great 
to  know  how  he  would  look,  how  he  would  preach,  and  how 
he  would  talk.  The  impression  received  when  I  first  met 
him  has,  in  the  main,  continued  with  me  ever  since.  I  found 
him  frank,  manly,  and  outspoken  ;  and  yet  with  such  pru- 
dence and  unaffected  kindness  of  manner  as  never  to  offend. 
Candor,  kindness,  and  good  humor  seemed  to  be  largely  de- 
veloped in  his  nature,  and  I  think  this  impressed  every  one 
who  knew  him.  One  thing  particularly  struck  me,  and  that 
was  the  utter  absence  of  everything  like  cant.  Unless  the 
subject  of  religion  happened  naturally  to  come  up  in  the 
course  of  a  conversation,  or  came  in  the  line  of  duty,  a  stranger 
might  converse  for  hours  with  him  on  politics,  literature,  or 
other  subjects,  and  never  suspect  him  to  be  a  minister,  but 
would  go  away  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a  very  intelligent, 
cultured,  and  well-read  gentleman.  When,  however,  religious 
questions  did  arise,  or  were  introduced,  Mr.  Hyde  could 
handle  them  with  such  skill  and  learning  as  to  convince  any- 
one that  he  had  not  mistaken  his  calling.  He  must  have 
been  a  great  reader,  I  may  say  an  extraordinary  reader,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  limit  to  the  variety  of  subjects  he 
studied.  Turn  the  conversation  in  any  direction  one  might 
choose  he  could  accompany  you  with  perfect  ease,  and  pre- 
sent new  and  fresh  thoughts  all  the  way  along. 

His  ready  wit  and  unfailing  good  humor  rendered  him 
exceedingly  agreeable.  He  was  ever  ready  to  add  to  the 
pleasure  or  amusement  of  those  about  him,  and  if  occasion 


28 


permitted,  would  enliven  the  conversation  with  the  raciest 
and  yet  the  most  harmless  jests.  And  how  often  would  his 
bright,  intelligent,  blue  eyes  light  up  and  sparkle  in  apprecia- 
tion of  the  wit  of  others. 

His  patience  and  rare  good  nature  were  remarkable,  often 
under  very  trying  circumstances.  While  at  our  house,  you 
will  remember  how  ill  he  was  with  rheumatic  fever.  During 
this  illness  he  suffered  a  good  deal,  and  sometimes  very  in- 
tensely. Yet  never  did  we  hear  an  impatient  word  or  see  a 
discouraging  look.  All  the  suffering  was  borne  with  what 
might  be  termed  heroic  cheerfulness.  When  the»  pain  was 
not  wholly  unbearable  he  would  joke  about  his  aches  and 
pains  in  the  drollest  manner  possible,  and  get  us  all  laughing, 
notwithstanding  our  great  sympathy  for  him. 

He  was  here  but  a  few  months,  and  we  know  compara- 
tively little  of  his  life  ;  but  what  we  do  know,  and  what  we 
have  seen  of  him,  will  be  among  the  pleasantest  and  tenderest 
memories  of  our  lives.  Hoping  and  trusting  that  God,  whose 
true  and  faithful  minister  he  was,  will  in  His  own  good  time, 
bring  us  all  together  again, 

I  remain  with  sincere  regard. 

Your  friend, 

R.  B.  ARCHIBALD. 


From  a  Friend,  E.  L.  G.,  in  Jacksonville,  Florida. 

I  never  heard  him  preach  that  I  did  not  feel  that  I  had 
been  "  fed  with  the  finest  of  the  wheat."  His  thoughts  were 
so  clearly  defined  in  his  own  mind,  that  we  were  never  left  in 
doubt  as  to  his  real  meaning.  He  "  used  great  plainness  of 
speech,"  but  in  all  evincing  remarkable  tenderness  and  deli- 
cacy of  feeling.  I  was  impressed  with  this  characteristic  of 
his  preaching  the  last  time  I  heard  him  (Sabbath  evening, 
Nov.  20,  1879)  address  his  own  people  from  the  words,  "If 


29 


we  say  that  we  have  fellowship  with  Him,  and  walk  in  dark- 
ness, we  lie." 

"His  lips  were  love,  his  touch  was  power; 
His  thoughts  were  livid  flame." 

I  have  often  recalled  that  ever-to-be-remembered  Sabbath 
evening,  and  have  seen  before  me  that  slender,  earnest  man 
again  and  again,  as,  filled  with  his  Master's  spirit,  his  very 
countenance  seemed  to  say,  "  None  of  these  things  move  me, 
neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that  I  might 
finish  my  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministry,  which  I  have 
received  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God." 


From  Mr.  Wayland  Spaulding,  Mont  Clair,  N.  J. 

Whenever  we  met,  whether  on  the  street,  in  his  study, 
or  at  my  house,  a  discussion  generally  arose  of  itself 
and  often  refused  to  abate  until  all  reasonable  hours  were 
past.  These  talks  frequently  turned  upon  books.  His 
critical  appreciation  was  remarkable.  He  first  made  for 
himself  a  clear  picture  of  an  author's  mind.  Then  all  his 
works  were  reviewed  as  coming  from  this  source,  like  water 
from  a  spring.  I  could  never  raise  questions  faster  than  he 
could  answer  them.  In  close  argument  he  was  a  perfect 
Knight.  Yet  his  shaft  was  like  Sir  Lancelot's — one  felt  a 
certain  pleasure  in  being  thrown  with  the  grace  of  complete 
strength.  His  only  expression  of  triumph  was  a  hearty 
laugh  ;  but  then  he  gave  the  same  laugh  when  he  chanced 
to  be  mistaken.  He  impressed  me  as  a  man  pouring  a 
stream  of  fresh  thought  over  his  mind.  What  was  good, 
stayed  ;  the  rest  flowed  away.  He  told  me  that  he  loved  to 
drop  into  the  middle  of  a  magazine  article  and  browse  him- 
self out  in  either  direction, — a  practice  dangerous  to  a  mind 
less  clear  and  powerful. 

In  conversation  he  would  sometimes  cry  out,  "  But  what's 
the  i\se  talking  about  that It  isn't  true."    He  was  attracted 


30 


one  evening  by  some  of  the  high-school  scholars  talking 
about  an  English  author's  literary  style.  "  Why,"  said  he, 
"that's  grand.  Not  one  in  a  thousand  knows  what  'style' 
means." 

But  all  this  is  passed  by  when  we  consider  his  spiritual  life. 
After  his  last  visit  to  the  South,  it  seemed  to  me  that  his 
sermons  were  better  than  ever.  To  the  old  depth  and  vigor 
he  added  a  stronger  spiritual  element.  Neither  doctrine  nor 
science  made  him  forget  to  urge  the  claims  of  holy  living. 
Many  a  night,  after  prayer-meeting,  we  walked  back  and  forth 
between  our  houses  together.  In  these  walks  the  young 
people  of  our  town  were  often  talked  over  with  an  earnest 
desire  to  reach  and  help  them.  I  think  the  habit  grew  upon 
us  who  attended  the  meetings,  of  waiting  to  shake  hands  after 
the  service  was  over. 

During  all  his  years  at  Rockville  his  people  were  steadily 
closing  around  him  and  rallying  to  his  support.  Those  who 
found  him  out,  especially,  became  his  warm  friends.  His 
church  in  its  quickened  life  is  the  noblest  witness  to  his 
power  as  a  pastor.  On  all  questions  of  social  reform  he  was 
eminently  sound  and  active.  He  stated  Christian  truth  so 
plainly  that  we  could  not  mistake.  All  the  wealth  of  his 
mind  and  heart  was  freely  spent  in  making  us  feel  the  value 
of  personal  religion.  He  called  on  us  to  follow  where  he  led 
the  way. 

I  visited  him  at  Rockville  a  few  weeks  before  he  died.  It 
was  Easter  Sunday,  and  he  preached  the  last  sermon  he  ever 
wrote.  It  was  just  like  him — clear,  vivid,  glowing.  Two 
months  later  came  the  news  of  his  death.  Rockville  mourned 
sincerely  for  the  man  who  had  given  her  his  best  work.  There 
were  no  distinctions.  Those  were  in  sorrow  who  were  his 
friends,  and  that  included  the  whole  community.  We  re- 
member him  as  a  good  citizen  and  a  man  of  fine  lite'rary  taste. 
But  the  strongest  influence  remaining  to  us  is  that  which 
rose  from  the  words  and  life  of  a  whole-souled  Christian. 


31 


From  T.  D.  Goodell,  Hartford. 


One  phase  of  Mr.  Hyde's  relation  to  me — and  to  many 
others — has  recurred  to  my  thoughts  very  often  since  I  saw 
him  last.  Notwithstanding  the  sweetness  and  strength  of 
his  character  in  other  respects,  I  think  of  him  chiefly  as  the 
source  of  a  quiet  but  powerful  and  pervasive  intellectual 
influence  of  a  very  rare  kind.  In  all  his  sermons  a  distinctive 
feature  was  the  ever-springing  freshness  of  his  thought ;  his 
fine  and  constantly  growing  library  difl"used  its  benefits  freely 
among  all  who  cared  for  them ;  in  conversation,  though  we 
sometimes  differed  widely,  he  seldom  failed  to  leave  with  me 
some  important  suggestion,  that  would  not  away  till  it  had 
been  met  and  carefully  considered.  Perhaps  this  influence 
of  his  was  more  especially  noticeable  in  a  few  of  us  young 
men,  as  we  were  just  beginning  to  reach  out  into  that  intel- 
lectual world  in  which  he  was  so  thoroughly  at  home  ;  yet  I 
know  that  very  many  of  his  friends  felt  the  same  stimulus 
from  him  continually.  He  raised  the  plane  of  thinking, 
especially  on  religious  subjects,  among  his  people  ;  and  only 
the  unworldly  character  of  his  ambition  prevented  him  from 
becoming  widely  known. 


LAST  HOURS. 

Tuesday  morning,  May  25th,  he  was  much  worse.  In  the 
afternoon,  after  a  council  of  physicians,  both  he  and  those 
watching  over  him  were,  for  a  little  time,  very  hopeful  of  his 
recovery.  But  Wednesday  morning  it  was  evident  that  the 
disease,  rheumatism  of  the  stomach,  was  not  yielding  at  all, 
and  by  the  evening  of  that  day  hope  had  almost  gone  out. 

Death  had  come.  Friends  and  physicians  were  powerless 
to  resist ;  but  the  conqueror  of  death  was  present.  When  in 
health,  he  had  often  been  oppressed,  as  he  thought  of  the 


32 


mystery  and  silence  of  death,  but  Christ  was  with  him  to 
illuminate  the  way,  and  more  than  once  he  said  "  There  is  no 
mystery  now."  To  a  friend  who  sat  by  him  Wednesday 
afternoon,  he  said,  "  Such  an  insight  as  I  have  had  into  the 
future !" 

Early  Thursday  morning,  during  a  hard  thunder  shower, 
after  a  very  heavy  peal,  he  said,  "  Our  Father  s  voice."  No 
words  can  tell  the  sense  of  nearness  to  God  expressed  in  his 
tones  as  he  uttered  the  words,  Our  Father's  voice.  A  few 
hours  after,  as  he  saw  through  one  of  the  windows  of  his 
room  a  bit  of  the  beautiful  clear  sky,  and  the  evergreen  hedge 
with  rain-drops  sparkling  in  the  sunlight,  he  asked,  "Am  I 
in  Heaven  or  on  earth  "  When  told  that  he  was  on  earth  he 
replied,  "  It  is  beautiful  enough  to  be  a  part  of  Heaven." 
Always  in  life  keenly  alive  to  the  beautiful,  in  death  he  was 
the  same. 

To  his  brother  minister  who  came  in  to  pray  with  him,  he 
said,  "  I  have  no  ecstasy,  but  such  peace  "  To  his  wife  he 
spoke  of  the  happiness  of  their  life  together,  and  said,  "  You 
will  be  taken  care  of  ;  you  will  have  friends." 

No  one  of  his  family  or  household  was  forgotten  by  him, 
and  those  who  took  care  of  him  were  spoken  to  with  the 
kindest  interest  in  their  spiritual  welfare. 

He  exhorted  his  son  to  be  a  whole-hearted  Christian,  and 
to  be  a  son  on  whom  his  mother  could  depend.  His  daugh- 
ters Clara  and  Margaret  he  urged  to  give  themselves  to 
Christ  and  His  work,  and  to  meet  him  in  Heaven.  After 
speaking  to  them  he  expressed  regret  that  Bertha,  the  next 
in  age,  was  not  at  home.  When  a  few  hours  later  she  arrived, 
he  knew  her  instantly,  and  his  countenance  lighted  with 
pleasure  as  he  kissed  her  and  said  "  Darling  Bertha."  Little 
Mabel,  too  young  to  understand  any  last  words,  was  tenderly 
kissed.  When  spoken  to  of  the  prospect  of  seeing  and  rec- 
ognizing his  infant  son  whom  Jesus  took  from  the  home  in 
Pomfret  to  the  Heavenly  mansions,  he  said,  "  I  think  I  shall 
be  able  to  pick  the  little  fellow  out "  ;  and  shortly  after,  said, 
"  I  have  been  thinking  so  much  of  Christ  that  I  had  not 
thought  of  meeting  friends." 


33 


He  did  not  forget  that  he  was  a  messenger  of  the  Cross, 
and  wished  to  know  if  there  was  any  one  in  the  house  to 
whom  God  would  speak  through  him. 

Tell  the  people  "  I  love  them,  I  would  do  them  good,"  he 
more  than  once  repeated. 

Soon  after  noon  he  seemed  to  be  in  a  dying  state,  but  the 
spirit  did  not  take  its  flight  until  a  little  past  midnight. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  dear  friends  sang  to  him,  "  Jesus 
Lover  of  my  soul,"  •'  Rock  of  ages,"  and  "  My  faith  looks  up 
to  Thee." 

It  seemed  that  he  felt  he  was  taken  to  Heaven  as  he  list- 
ened to  those  beautiful  hymns  sung  by  voices  which  he  had 
so  often  heard  in  the  prayer-meeting  ;  for  a  while  after,  he 
exclaimed,  "Am  I  still  on  earth.?  I  thought  I  went  to  Heaven 
long  ago." 

As  life  was  going  out  he  spoke  less  frequently.  About 
half  an  hour  before  the  end,  his  wife  said,  "  Do  you  know 
me.''"  "Yes."  "Are  you  happy.''"  "Yes."  "Is  Christ 
with  you  .''"    "  Vc-s." 

There  could  be  no  mistaking  that  last  jws.  It  was  clearer 
and  stronger  than  those  before  it.    And  it  was  his  last  word. 

At  a  little  past  midnight  on  the  morning  of  the  28th  of 
May,  the  conflict  of  life  was  over,  the  body  which  had  en- 
dured such  life-long  pain  and  weakness  was  at  rest,  and  he 
saw  "  The  King  in  His  glory." 

Let  us  thank  and  praise  the  Saviour,  and  rejoice  greatly 
that  He  was  present  and  mighty  to  save  in  the  time  of  great- 
est need. 

"  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  let  my  last  end 
be  like  his."  E. 


5 


34 


A  SERMON, 

Commemorative  of  tlic  late  Rev.  H.  F.  Hyde,  preacJied  by 
Rev.  y.  \V.  Backus,  at  the  Methodist  Church  Rockville, 
yune  20,  1880. 

Philippians  I  :  21. — For  to  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain. 

It  was  a  question  with  Paul  whether  he  should  live  or  die. 
He  was  waiting  in  bonds  to  know  how  it  would  go  with  him. 
In  such  a  suspense,  he  naturally  contemplated  both  aspects 
of  the  case.  He  thought  of  life  and  he  thought  of  death. 
On  the  one  hand,  life,  while  it  was  dear  to  him,  was  chiefly 
desirable,  as  an  opportunity  to  serve  Christ  in  the  flesh.  As 
such  an  opportunity,  it  was  to  him  of  immeasurable  value. 
Probably  no  one  ever  loved  life  better.  In  it  he  experienced 
great  rejoicings,  triumphs,  exultations.  Undying  hope  lighted 
up  his  grand  career.  He  had  the  enthusiasm  of  success. 
The  work  of  the  Lord  prospered  in  his  hands.  Sin  yielded 
wherever  he  went,  and  the  truth  of  Christ  mightily  prevailed. 
With  all  his  heart  he  loved  Christ  and  Christ's  work,  and  the 
onward  movement  of  that  work  filled  his  highest  conception  of 
what  a  human  life  should  be.  "  For  to  me  to  live  is  Christ." 
This  is  all  there  is  of  life,  and  this  makes  life  glorious.  It 
satisfies  the  noblest  ambition,  it  accomplishes  the  greatest 
results,  it  produces  the  most  happiness,  it  makes  a  human 
life  large,  harmonious,  and  self-rewarding.  This  thrill  of  a 
true  life  penetrated  Paul's  entire  being,  and  he  could  call  it 
nothing  less  than  the  life  of  Christ. 

Yet  there  was  something  better  even  than  this,  and  that 
was  to  die.  "  To  die  is  gain."  If  the  scale  should  turn 
against  him  and  remove  him  from  his  loved  service,  he  could 
give  it  up,  much  as  he  loved  it,  because  death  was  better. 
This  reverses  the  common  course  of  nature.  If  death  has 
special  attractions  for  any  one,  it  is  usually  for  the  man  who 
tires  of  life,  and  who  feels  that  he  is  making  no  success  of 
.it.  The  cultivated  Greek  and  Ronian  of  Paul's  day,  often 
sought  death  for  this  or  some  more  romantic  reason.  "To 


35 


die  is  gain,"  was  a  Roman  maxim.  But  the  peculiarity  in 
Paul's  case  was,  that  to  him  death  was  better  than  the  best 
kind  of  life.  The  man  who  gloried  even  in  tribulation,  who 
knew  how  to  be  abased  and  how  to  abound,  who  held  all 
things  in  his  possession,  and  had  a  consciousness  of  power 
beyond  that  of  Emperors,  thought  that  all  this  was  not  so 
good  as  to  die.  If  he  was  set  at  liberty,  all  well ;  if  executed, 
it  was  even  better.  The  true  life,  even  in  the  midst  of  its 
grandest  achievements,  knows  something  more  grand,  and 
that  is,  to  put  by  its  achievements  and  pass  on,  through  the 
narrow  gate  of  death,  to  something  beyond. 

Let  us  not  suppose  that  this  was  peculiar  to  Paul.  The 
heroic  age  of  Christian  faith  has  not  passed  away.  The  text 
is  not  a  mythical  utterance,  that  gets  its  fascination  from  the 
impossibility  of  being  verified  now.  Without  any  loss  of 
meaning  or  of  reality,  it  becomes  a  matter  of  actual  experi- 
ence every  day.  The  better  the  life  is,  the  greater  the  ad- 
vantage of  leaving  it. 

I  feel  an  unshrinking  confidence  in  applying  the  sentiment 
of  the  text  to  the  beloved  disciple  we  would  honor  to-day, 
by  a  few  memorial  words.  He  loved  life,  its  work,  its  friends, 
its  sufferings  even,  as  bringing  him  into  the  closest  fellow- 
ship with  Christ.  He  was  making  the  noblest  success  of 
life.  He  was  getting  the  mastery  of  it  into  his  own  hands, 
yet  he  thought  he  could  do  better.  He  thought  it  gain  to 
die.  To  lay  his  armor  down  cost  him  no  misgivings,  as  if 
his  work  were  unfinished,  and  his  hopes  disappointed.  The 
best  work  he  ever  did  was,  in  leaving  his  work,  to  disappoint 
disappointment  itself,  and  show  how  death  could  die.  If  to 
him  it  was  Christ  to  live,  it  was  even  a  gain  to  die.  Let  us 
call  to  mind  what  w,e  may  of  our  beloved  dead. 

Henry  Francis  Hyde  was  born  in  East  Killingly,  Dec.  22, 
1834.  Here,  and  in  this  neighborhood,  in  Windham  County, 
his  childhood  and  youth  were  spent.  Of  this  time,  the  most 
important  part,  or  that  in  which  were  first  developed  his  early 
character  and  purpose,  was  spent  in  East  Brooklyn,  where 
his  father  kept  the  turnpike  gate.  There  the  family  lived  for 
some  half  dozen  years,  after  Henry  was  about  twelve  years 


36 


of  age.  Divine  Providence  appears  in  little  things.  Who 
can  tell  how  much  the  Toll-gate  had  to  do  in  shaping  the 
boy's  future  life  ?  His  parents  were  in  moderate  circum- 
stances, with  a  farm  to  take  care  of.  Henry's  slender  constitu- 
tion, and  consequent  unfitness  for  farm  work,  having  infirmi- 
ties that  are  not  unfitly  called  a  life-long  thorn  in  the  flesh, 
seemed  to  mark  him,  more  than  any  other  one  of  the  family, 
as  the  predestined  gate-tender.  You  can  see  the  boy  now, 
springing  from  his  chair  at  the  window,  darting  from  the 
door  to  the  street,  without  any  hat  on,  to  collect  the  fee  from 
the  passing  traveller.  But  you  will  notice  that  he  returns,  if 
possible,  more  eagerly  than  he  came  out.  What  attraction 
has  he  in  that  vacant  room  where  he  sits  waiting  for  the  pas- 
ser-by ?  The  great  attraction  of  his  life — /n's  book.  Here 
is  where  the  Providence  appears.  He  could  perform  Gate 
duty,  even  with  little  strength,  and  that  duty  on  a  country 
turnpike  afforded  him  long  intervals  of  leisure,  and  these 
intervals  were  God's  opportunity  for  developing  unsuspected 
powers  in  the  lad.  He  had  time  for  reading,  and  improved 
it, — every  moment.  This  soon  appeared  to  be  his  ruling  pas- 
sion. At  seven  years  of  age  he  had  read  the  Bible  through  ; 
led  to  it,  not  by  the  influence  of  parents  or  others,  but  be- 
cause the  Bible  happened  to  be  the  first  book  in  his  way. 
Yet  he  afterwards  confessed  that  it  left  an  abiding  influence 
upon  him.  At  the  age  of  fourteen,  he  had  the  first  money 
that  he  could  call  his  own.  With  this  he  bought  a  Shakespeare. 
By  this  time  he  was  well  known  in  the  neighborhood  for  his 
reading  habits.  Every  book  in  the  neighborhood  fell  a  victim 
to  that  propensity.  Every  little  library  in  every  little  home 
was  ransacked  and  devoured.  Whoever  saw  the  shadowy 
child  on  the  street  walking  with  unusual  sprightliness  and 
seeming  purpose,  might  safely  conclude  he  was  going  for  a 
book.  Whoever  passed  the  house,  might  see  through  the 
curtainless  window,  the  same  boy  curled  up  in  a  rocking- 
chair,  bending  over  the  book  in  his  lap  ;  his  feet  on  the 
round  of  another  chair,  and  there  he  might  be  seen  for  six 
or  even  ten  hours,  in  uninterrupted  application,  except  as 
some  one  passed  the  Gate. 


37 


And  this  habit  of  reading  was  not  an  intellectual  dissipa- 
tion ;  an  intoxication  of  delight  that  passed  off  as  soon  as 
the  book  was  laid  aside.  He  remembered  what  he  read,  and 
had  it  largely  at  his  command  for  use.  As  I  can  learn  of  no 
artificial  aids  to  the  memory,  the  inference  is  that  the  mem- 
ory retained  without  such  helps,  by  an  inherent  natural 
power.  The  retentiveness  of  memory  seemed  to  be  as  no- 
ticeable a  feature  of  his  intellectual  character,  as  his  reading 
habits.  For  soon  after  this,  in  the  Academy,  and  later  in 
College,  he  was  humorously  acknowledged  by  common  con- 
sent to  be  the  "  Walking  Encyclopedia." 

From  what  I  have  already  said,  we  are  prepared  to  learn 
that  he  was  not  foremost  in  the  sports  of  boyhood.  Yet  he 
liked  them,  and  was  a  favorite  companion  in  them  ;  the  best 
chess  player  in  town.  Still,  when  he  was  wanted  for  outdoor 
sports,  it  was  generally  necessary  to  raise  a  committee  of 
boys,  and  send  for  him  with  instructions  to  take  his  book 
from  him  first,  and  then  take  the  boy.  Thus  captured,  and 
once  enlisted,  he  submitted  to  his  fate,  with  a  good  nature 
that  made  him  all  the  more  a  favorite  for  being  rather  an 
unwilling  victim. 

There  was,  however,  a  social  boyhood  recreation,  for  which 
he  needed  no  urging.  It  was  the  neighborhood  debating 
club.  In  this  he  was  the  "  moving  spirit,"  the  facile  princcps. 
For  this  he  did  not  have  to  be  sent  for,  nor  wait  to  be  cap- 
tured. In  this,  the  controlling  power  among  the  boys  shifted 
hands,  and  by  common  consent  was  wielded  by  him.  The 
speaking  hall  was  the  father's  barn,  the  platform  was  the 
manger  of  the  horse-stall,  the  audience,  the  smaller  boys  on 
the  barn  floor.  Such  was  the  arrangement  for  the  prelimi- 
nary drill,  and  the  exercises  commenced.  The  lecture,  the 
oration,  the  argument  was  rehearsed.  The  different  sides 
were  heard,  the  decision  was  pronounced.  But,  as  one  of  the 
company  concerned  writes  with  affectionate  humor  :  "  As  a 
boy  debater,  he  was  too  much  for  us.  While  we  tried  to 
build  up  our  argument,  he  would  at  once  fall  back  on  the  re- 
sources of  his  memory  and '  overwhelm  us  with  quotations 
from  sages  and  philosophers,  till  it  seemed  insipid  for  us  to 
intrude  our  humble  thought  and  language." 


38 


It  was  inevitable  that  the  question  of  a  liberal  education 
should  arise.  Rev.  Dr.  Rice,  his  pastor,  had  gathered  his 
young  people  into  a  Theological  and  Catechetical  class,  for 
weekly  recitations.  Dr.  R.  writes  as  follows  :  "  Henry  lived 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  village  ;  had  rather  more  of  the  appear- 
ance of  a  home-keeping  country-bred  boy  than  most  of  his 
companions.  He  was  not  very  well  dressed,  rather  awkward 
and  very  bashful  and  timid.  But  in  quickness  of  memory, 
and  clearness  of  discernment,  I  soon  discovered  that  he  sur- 
passed all  his  associates."  This  gifted  pastor,  naturally 
congraulated  himself,  that  he  had  been  enabled  to  "  bring  to 
light  such  superior  talent  at  first  hidden  away  so  far  from  the 
world's  notice."  It  was  this  pastor  who  told  the  boy  he  must 
be  educated.  He  also  persuaded  the  father,  and  himself  per- 
sonally superintended  the  first  beginnings  of  the  college  prepa- 
rations, which  were  finished  in  the  Village  Academy,  in 
which,  to  quote  the  testimony  of  one  of  his  comrades,  (Dr. 
Hutchins  of  Columbus,  Ohio,)  "  He  was  the  most  brilliant 
scholar  the  Academy  ever  produced,  and  probably  the  most 
brilliant  one  the  town  ever  produced." 

In  the  course  of  these  preparations,  there  occurred  the 
great  event  of  his  life,  his  conversion  to  God.  He  had  always 
been  exceptionally  correct  in  his  boy-life,  but  now  he  saw 
that  he  was  a  sinner,  and  almost  despaired.  His  sad  and 
wondering  look  at  this  discovery,  impressed  itself  perma- 
nently upon  the  memory  of  the  friend  who  speaks  of  it.  And 
this  same  friend  stood  by  him  till  the  sorrow  was  turned  into 
jov.  Yet  before  this  he  had  always  been  thoughtful  and  ten- 
der. He  says  himself,  writing  in  1875,  "I  think  I  had  a 
sorrow  for  sin,  a  love  for  Christ  before  the  open  avowal  of 
the  hope."  Light  dawned  gradually  upon  him  in  connection 
with  the  faithful  and  stated  preaching  of  the  gospel,  of  which 
he  could  never  speak  in  too  affectionate  terms,  as  the  means 
of  his  conversion.  He  united  with  the  church  in  Danielson- 
ville,  July  i,  1855,  the  day  when  sixty-nine  others,  mostly 
young  people,  stood  with  him  to  take  the  vows  of  God  upon 
them. 

On  the  fifth  day  of  September,  1855,  he  started  for  Am- 


39 


herst  College.  Before  starting,  he  took  an  inventory  of  his 
worldly  effects,  with  this  caption :  "  What  I  had  when  I  star- 
ted for  Amherst  College."  The  inventory  included  a  few 
books,  with  the  estimated  value  of  each,  and  his  clothes,  even 
to  the  minutest  articles.  He  had  also  $28  in  money,  which 
by  October  8th,  was  reduced  to  ^2.91,  when  he  received  $$ 
from  home.  I  can  see  him  now,  after  having  purchased  his 
outfit  of  second-hand  furniture,  going  to  his  room  by  himself 
to  count  the  small  remainder  of  his  money,  and  the  counte- 
nance slightly  changing  as  the  money  question  stares  him  in 
the  face  ;  and  the  pathos  of  it  is  no  way  lessened  by  noting 
among  these  boy  expenses  the  item  of  the  doctor's  bill.  But 
the  shrinking  modest  youth  is  usually  the  brave  youth.  It 
was  surely  so  with  him.  His  bravery  never  appeared  to  bet- 
ter advantage  than  in  the  calm  determination  and  quiet  sub- 
mission, with  which  he  met  forebodings  of  evil. 

In  college  he  pursued  his  studies  uninterruptedly  for  one 
year  and  a  little  more.  Kind  friends  in  his  native  town, 
moved  by  the  growing  promise  of  the  young  man,  and  drawn 
to  him  still  more  by  his  amiable  manners,  extended  to  him 
their  pecuniary  favors.  His  father,  whose  reading  habits  he 
had  inherited,  did  all  he  could  for  him,  but  in  his  Sophomore 
year  he  was  compelled  to  leave  college  and  teach.  He  taught 
a  district  shool  in  North  Woodstock.  Returning  to  College 
in  the  spring  of  1857,  he  writes:  "I  have  done  in  seven 
weeks  an  immense  amount  of  work,  having  made  up  in  that 
time  all  that  the  class  had  been  over  in  fourteen  weeks." 
While  he  had  always  hoped  "  that  he  might  be  good  enough," 
to  use  the  expression  of  his  boyhood,  "to  be  a  minister,"  he 
seems  quite  firmly  settled  in  his  purpose  by  the  end  of 
Sophomore  year.  At  this  time  he  writes,  "  I  shall  try  very 
hard  to  do  well  in  the  profession  I  have  chosen,"  and  declares 
"  I  must  struggle  against  the  inoimtiug  devil  of  ambition." 

Junior  year  was  an  unbroken  year  in  College.  In  this 
year  he  was  elected  by  his  class  one  of  the  editors  of  the 
College  Magazine.  In  Senior  year  he  taught  first  in  New- 
port, N.  H.,  and  afterwards,  in  the  spring  of  1859,  commenced 
to  teach  the  public  High  School  in  Webster,  Mass.  Returning 


40 


to  College  for  graduation,  he  ranked  the  sixth  in  his  class. 
Considering  the  interruptions  for  teaching,  and  the  depres- 
sions of  ill  health,  such  a  college  success  is  very  rare,  and  I 
am  not  surprised  that  President  Seelye  should  write  as  fol- 
lows :  "  I  well  remember  him.  Open-hearted  and  guileless, 
naturally  amiable,  of  frank  and  winning  ways,  he  possessed 
also  remarkable  capacity  as  a  student,  and  uncommon  devo- 
tion as  a  Christian.  He  was  a  good  scholar  and  thinker, 
with  a  power  of  clear  and  precise  expression  for  his  thoughts ; 
but  I  think  his  most  noticeable  trait  while  here  was  his  fidel- 
ity to  every  duty." 

Having  taught  a  year  in  Webster,  he  entered  the  Union 
Theological  Seminary,  New  York  city,  in  the  fall  of  i860. 
By  this  time  we  are  through  with  tlie  boy.  Hitherto,  supe- 
rior natural  endowments  have  been  struggling  into  recogni- 
tion. They  have  now  come  to  a  distinct  self-assertion  by 
their  own  force.  A  high  order  of  manhood  is  well  assured. 
By  whatever  disadvantages  the  boyhood  was  encumbered, 
they  are  now  ieft  behind  as  a  romantic  reminiscence,  which 
only  sets  off  more  clearly  the  bright  developments  of  the 
cultured  manhood. 

As  he  comes  to  the  new  studies,  with  intellect  girded,  and 
eager  for  the  new  curriculum,  furnished  now  with  the  know- 
ledge of  German  and  French,  it  is  gratifying  to  notice  that 
the  intellect  is  not  to  hold  any  undue  prominence.  He  is 
not  studying  Theology  as  a  mere  science  or  for  a  profession. 
The  Christian  manhood  begins  to  take  to  itself  symmetry. 
The  heart  enlarges.  He  does  missionary  work  in  New  York 
city,  and  the  sight  of  his  eyes  affects  his  heart.  The  foun- 
tains of  emotion  are  unsealed.  Sympathy  for  men  is  awak- 
ened. Love  for  sinners  comes  in  to  direct  his  intellectual 
faculties.  Study  is  simply  the  means  for  doing  good.  Ac- 
cordingly he  writes  :  "  Pray  God  that  I  may  grow  in  grace 
above  everything  else.  The  great  thing  is  to  be  a  true 
Christian,  to  love  all  men."  There  is  the  clearest  evidence  of 
a  careful  but  healthy  introspection  of  himself.  He  scans  his 
motives  and  seeks  to  purify  them.  "  It  is  a  good  thing,"  he 
writes,  "  to  find  out  our  special  faults,  and  while  trying  to 


4 


correct  them,  make  them  a  subject  of  special  prayer.  There 
should  be  prayer  for  singleness  of  purpose.  The  chief  thing 
in  life  is  to  save  souls  ;  not  to  get  a  good  place,  nor  to  ac- 
quire great  learning."  The  beginning  of  his  professional 
study  seems  to  take  him  into  a  sunnier  atmosphere  spiritu- 
ally. A  clearer  experience  of  spiritual  things  comes  in  to 
enlarge  the  range  of  his  thought,  and  temper  his  aspirations. 

In  the  fall  of  '6i  he  left  the  Union  Seminary,  and  entered 
the  Seminary  in  East  Windsor.  Among  other  advantages 
of  this  institution,  he  found  what  was  still  a  most  important 
one  to  him,  greater  pecuniary  aid.  I  may  also  refer  to  a  face- 
tious remark  of  his,  at  the  time,  for  a  further  explanation  of 
the  change.  "  I  left  New  York,"  he  said,  "  to  get  away  from 
the  book  stores,  and  to  try  to  break  off  from  at  least  one 
besetting  sin — buying  books."  From  this  institution,  now 
known  as  the  Theological  Seminary  of  Hartford,  he  received 
honor.  He  also  conferred  honor  upon  it.  He  taught  in  it, 
while  pastor  of  the  Second  Church  in  this  village,  in  the 
winter  of  '74-5,  as  a  substitute  for  Dr.  Vermilye.  He  has 
been  one  of  its  crustees  from  the  year  1872,  till  his  death. 
At  the  last  anniversary  in  Hartford,  he  was  to  have  given  an 
address  before  the  Alumni.  His  subject  was  "  The  idolatry 
of  talent."  Could  he  have  written  that  address,  and  if  it  had 
been  his  last  work,  it  would  have  given  a  singular  complete- 
ness to  his  life.  For  as  he  began  with  the  conviction  that 
"the  chief  thing  in  life  is  to  save  souls,  and  not  to  acquire 
great  learning,"  he  would  have  ended  with  the  re-afifirmation 
of  the  same  thought. 

I  need  now  scarcely  more'than  indicate  the  steps  by  which 
he  passed  ultimately  to  the  pastorate  of  the  Second  Congre- 
gational Church  of  this  village.  He  was  licensed  to  preach 
in  June  of  1862,  by  the  Tolland  County  Association,  assem- 
bled in  Tolland.  On  his  return  from  Tolland  to  East  Wind- 
sor, he  passed  through  Rockville.  In  his  description  of  the 
ride,  his  pen  seems  to  betray  a  partiality  for  the  scenery  of 
this  town  ;  the  beautiful  lake  and  its  fringe  of  forest,  its  rare 
flowers,  the  attractions  of  the  village  itself,  which  both  nature 
and  art  had  brought  together  here.  May  we  not  fancy  that 
6 


42 


a  first  love  was  unconsciously  moving  in  his  heart !  The 
following  August  he  preached  his  first  sermon  in  Danielson- 
ville,  from  Gen.  iii,  8,  deducing  from  it  this  subject :  Sin,  tJie 
separation  from  God.  In  November,  1863,  he  was  married 
to  Miss  Ellen  May.  June  i,  1864,  while  supplying  in  West 
Woodstock,  he  received  a  call  to  settle,  and  the  next  autumn 
was  installed  pastor  of  the  same  church,  where  he  remained 
two  years  and  a  half  longer,  having  in  the  mean  time  declined 
a  call  from  the  church  in  Pomfret,  but  which,  being  renewed 
a  year  later  in  the  spring  of  1867,  he  accepted  and  remained 
there  five  years.  Thirty  or  forty  hopeful  conversions  were 
in  part  the  fruit  of  his  ministry  in  West  Woodstock.  In 
Pomfret,  his  clear  and  logical  discourses  were  the  constant 
delight  of  a  congregation  cultivated  above  the  average  of 
country  parishes.  But  he  was  sought  for  in  a  wider  field, 
and  accepted  the  call  to  the  Second  Church  in  Rockville,  over 
which  he  was  installed  July  5,  1872.  As  might  have  been 
expected,  his  eight  years  of  ministry  in  this  place  have  been 
the  best  part  of  his  life  for  effective  service.  With  his  pre- 
vious experience  and  furnishings,  the  new  and  more  varied 
service  has  only  developed  more  varied  gifts  and  shown  him 
grandly  equal  to  the  high  expectation  that  awaited  him  here. 

And  now  that  we  have  followed  our  departed  brother  to 
that  period  of  his  life  when  his  powers  are  matured,  and  to 
the  work  in  which  the  real  man  most  effectually  declares 
itself,  it  seems  to  be  required  of  me  to  make  out  a  brief  esti- 
mate of  him  derived  from  two  or  three  salient  points  of  the 
man. 

I.  From  his  social  nature.  In  his  preparatory  courses, 
and  even  in  the  course  of  his  pastorate  here,  at  different 
times  he  has  been  thrown  among  different  circles  of  asso- 
ciates. In  teaching  here  and  there,  in  his  temporary  health 
resorts,  he  made  life-long  friendships.  This  is  noticeable. 
Strangers  were  drawn  to  him.  He  was  not  long  a  new  comer, 
in  a  strange  place.  His  life  seemed  to  mingle  with  the 
stranger  life  around,  and  converted  the  stranger  into  a  friend. 
He  was  unselfish.  He  had  a  warm  hear'u,  and  an  active  sym- 
pathy.   Children  would  always  love  him  anywhere.    He  was 


43 


himself  confiding — childlike.  His  heart  seemed  to  be  in  his 
face,  lighting  his  features  with  an  unmistakable  benignity. 
People  felt  at  ease  in  his  friendship,  secure  in  his  sincerity, 
and  improved  by  his  purity  of  mind.  All  this  made  him  a 
good  converse!'.  Aside  from  his  resources  of  knowledge, 
which  always  made  his  conversation  instructive,  there  was 
something  kind  and  genial  in  it  which  also  made  it  a  bond  of 
union  between  himself  and  others.  The  winter  of  '76  he 
spent  in  Jacksonville,  Florida,  for  his  health.  His  home  was 
with  Judge  Archibald,  of  that  town.  Mrs.  Archibald  has 
since  died.  iVIr.  Hyde's  recollections  of  this  remarkable 
woman  are  embodied  in  a  brief  memorial  sketch,  published 
in  a  little  book  (1878),  with  similar  tributes  from  other 
friends,  and  edited  by  himself.  In  this  sketch  of  his  (which 
by  the  way  must  be  called  a  gem  of  its  kind),  there  occurs 
this  passage  :  "  I  shall  always  remember  with  great  pleasure 
the  conversations  which  I  was  permitted  to  have  with  her, 
upon  books,  art,  poetry,  and  the  more  practical  every-day 
topics  of  life  and  how  to  use  it,  upon  religion  and  doctrine, 
prayer  and  duty,  how  to  do  good,  and  to  live  rightly."  This 
is  the  deserved  tribute  to  the  gifted  friend.  It  is,  also,  though 
unconsciously,  an  equally  deserved  tribute  to  himself.  It 
gives  a  glimpse  of  his  social  life,  and  reveals  the  qualities 
of  mind  and  heart  that  invariably  found  friends  wherever  he 
was. 

2.  We  shall  now,  I  think,  take  an  affectionate  pleasure  in 
recalling  a  few  of  his  intellectual  traits.  He  had  an  eminently 
acute  and  discriminating  mind.  He  presented  a  thought 
so  that  you  could  see  it  in  clear  relief,  separated  from  every 
thing  that  did  not  belong  to  it.  His  mind  was  well  fitted  for 
metaphysical  investigation,  and  he  was  fond  of  such  studies. 
He  opened  a  clear  path  through  the  intricacies  of  a  difficult 
subject,  and  left  the  hearer  or  reader  wiser  for  following  him. 

His  mind  was  rather  eclectic  than  original.  Being  widely 
read,  probably  beyond  the  majority  of  men  in  the  ministry, 
he  brought  others'  thoughts  to  the  bar  of  his  own  judgment, 
subjected  them  to  the  unsparing  scrutiny  of  his  own  insight, 
and  passed  upon  them  the  sentence  of  his  own  mind.  But 


44 


his  conclusions  were  in  the  highest  degree  independent,  and 
they  were  grasped  with  a  power  of  conviction  not  easily 
shaken.  It  was  this  cast  of  mind  that  led  him  to  look  on  all 
sides  of  a  subject  and  come  to  his  conclusions  from  a  wide 
induction  of  particulars.  .  If  he  had  been  given  to  the  study 
and  practice  of  law,  he  would  have  been  a  better  judge  than 
advocate.  He  would  have  taken  more  kindly  to  the  work  of 
weighing  evidence,  and  balancing  opinions,  and  finding  out 
patiently  and  carefully  what  was  exactly,  and  severely,  and 
everlastingly  just  and  right,  than  he  would  to  the  work  of 
driving  a  point  at  all  hazards.  He  never  could  have  been  a 
theological  partisan.  He  cared  too  much  for  the  truth  itself 
and  was  too  judicial  in  his  opinions.  He  could  see  and  ap- 
preciate the  truth  or  half  truth,  in  a  practical  error.  Had  he 
lived  in  the  days  of  the  Taylor  and  Tyler  controversy,  he 
would  have  given  as  cordial  a  hearing  to  one  side  as  the 
other,  and  would  have  preserved  an  independent  poise  be- 
tween both.  He  had  the  faculty  of  seeing,  as  Columbus  did, 
that  there  might  be  another  hemisphere  opposite  his  own, 
and  that  both  were  necessary  to  make  out  the  perfect  whole. 
Had  he  lived  in  the  midst  of  the  Unitarian  controversy,  his 
Orthodoxy,  abhorring  cant,  would  have  embraced  all  that  was 
truly  liberal  in  his  opponents,  and  they  would  have  said, 
"  His  preaching  is  not  so  very  bad,  after  all."  They  would 
have  been  pleased  with  it,  and  many  would  have  been  amazed 
that  such  good  Unitarianism,  as  his  seemed  to  them  at  first, 
could  have  made  such  good  Orthodoxy  as  theirs  became  at 
last.  Had  he  lived  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation,  he  would 
have  been  a  Melancthon  rather  than  a  Luther ;  having  the 
classic  tastes,  and  refined  sentiments,  and  judicial  mental 
bearing  which  Melancthon  had,  rather  than  the  thunder-storm 
words  and  ways  of  Luther.  But  no  man  was  ever  more  inde- 
pendent in  thought  or  positive  and  pronounced  in  opinion 
than  he ;  only  his  independence  stood  not  so  much  in  the 
isolated  grandeur  of  originality,  as  in  the  imperial  surveys  he 
took  of  the  whole  world  of  thought,  and  the  more  imperial 
confidence  with  which  he  marked  out  his  own  way,  and  set 
up  his  own  land  marks  in  it.    Dr.  Emmons  once  said  of  a 


45 


certain  quaternion  of  theologians  :  "  Tiie  first  is  Calvinisti- 
calish,  the  second  is  Calvinistical,  the  third  is  Calvinistic, 
the  fourth  a  Calvinist."  Aside  from  the  particular  phase  of 
theology  here  spoken  of — though  in  this  regard  Mr.  Hyde 
would  not  probably  have  differed  essentially — the  principle  of 
the  fourth  he  always  did  exemplify.  "  He  hated  to  be  some- 
thing/j/^.-"  "somewhat  more  of  yes  than  no,  and  rather  more 
of  no  than  yes."*  Mr.  Hyde  was  a  substantive,  and  not  an 
adjective.    One  of  his  favorite  hymns  has  this  stanza: 

And  right  is  right,  since  God  is  God, 

And  right  the  day  must  win. 
To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 

To  falter  would  be  sin. 

I  am  not  surprised  that  this  was  a  favorite  hymn  with  him. 

His  leading  intellectual  trait,  if  I  mistake  not.  was  a  logical 
acuteness,  a  power  of  clear  and  cogent  reasoning,  with  the 
command  of  wide  resources  by  which  he  led  others  into  true 
knowledge. 

This  being  so,  his  imagination  took  a  subordinate  place, 
in  his  teaching.  It  was  a  vivid,  and  highly  cultivated  faculty. 
It  gave  him  a  poetic  insight.  It  was  refined  by  familiarity 
with  artistic  productions.  It  came  to  his  aid  very  beautifully 
in  his  courses  of  strong  thought,  to  brighten  them  up  and 
make  them  attractive  even  to  an  unthinking  man  :  as  the 
bird  song,  or  the  flower  bloom  by  the  way,  cheers  the  step  of 
toil.  His  imagination  never  ran  away  with  him.  It  was  in 
subjection  to  him,  and  not  he  to  it.  He  never  used  illustra- 
tions where  there  was  nothing  to  illustrate.  And  so  his 
rhetorical  art  did  not  become  artifice,  but  seemed  like  a  con- 
tribution of  nature  itself,  for  simplicity  and  telling  effect. 
Sometimes  the  imagination  is  impertinent  and  rushes  in  only 
to  divert  attention  and  confuse  a  thought.  Mr.  Hyde's  rhet- 
oric was  not  indulged  any  farther  than  to  be  a  help  to  his 
logic. 

It  is  not  always,  perhaps  not  often,  that  so  logical  a  mind 
should  have  so  much  emotion.    Yet  this  was  one  secret  of 


*  Prof.  Park's  Memoir  of  Dr.  Emmons.    Page  422. 


46 


his  power.  "  He  loved  all  men,"  and  was  keenly  susceptible 
to  every  appeal  from  human  want.  His  thought,  his  manner, 
his  tones  betrayed  unaffected  sympathy,  which  not  unfre- 
quently  became  magnetic,  and  the  clear  and  seemingly  unim- 
passjoned  speech,  softened  and  melted  us  to  tears. 

3.  A  word  should  be  said  of  his  practical  turn  of  mind. 
When  he  was  a  boy,  some  fears  were  expressed  lest,  if  en- 
couraged to  get  an  education,  he  should  bury  himself  in  his 
books,  and  be  spoiled  for  practical  usefulness.  Indeed  one 
of  his  early  friends,  probably  with  the  boyhood,  rather  than 
the  manhood  in  his  mind,  raises  the  question  whether  he 
might  not  have  accomplished  even  a  greater  success  as  a 
Professor,  than  he  has  done  as  a  minister.  I  should  think 
not,  because,  as  it  proves,  he  has  an  intensely  practical  nature. 
How  could  he  teach  Political  Economy  to  students,  without 
rushing  out  into  the  world  to  lay  plans  for  taking  hold  of  the 
rum  shop How  could  he  sit  in  his  chair,  and  teach  Moral 
Philosophy,  without  plunging  in  among  men,  to  make  them 
moral  How  could  he  teach  Sociology,  without  putting  up 
a  Library  and  Reading  Room  for  working  young  men.^  He 
was  made  to  live  close  to  the  people :  a  man  of  work,  patient 
of  details,  an  organizer,  a  helper  and  a  friend  of  all  men.  He 
loved  books,  but  he  loved  men  more,  because  he  loved  Christ 
supremely,  and  could  say  with  the  Apostle,  "  For  to  me  to 
live  is  Christ."  His  preaching  was  practical.  It  is  a  com- 
mon saying  among  his  people  that  "  Mr.  Hyde's  preaching 
always  hits  me  somewhere." 

We  have  thus  taken  note  of  the  man  from  three  distinct 
points  of  view, — the  social,  the  intellectual,  the  practical. 
I  have  chosen  these  three  lines  of  observation,  because 
they  seem  to  present  a  fine  combination,  and  somewhat  re- 
markable. I  think  it  is  rare  that  these  groups  of  qualities 
are  found  so  complete  in  the  same  person. 

In  drawing  these  commemorative  reflections  to  a  close,  I 
must  be  allowed  to  indulge  in  a  word  of  appreciation  less 
critical,  and  with  the  unrestraint  of  fraternal  love.  This 
sketch,  imperfect  as  it  is,  has  brought  a  blessing  to  myself, 
by  prolonging  the  companionship  of  the  departed.  I  have 
seemed  to  stay  in  his  presence,  and  to  feel  its  elevating  in- 


-47 


fluence.  I  have  been  reminded  of  the  welcome  he  gave  me 
to  my  new  field  of  labor.  I  seem  again  to  have  heard  his 
kind  words,  and  to  have  felt  again  the  honest  emphasis  he 
gave  them,  in  the  pressure  of  his  warm  right  hand.  He  has 
always  kept  his  pledge  of  fraternal  faithfulness.  I  felt  that 
he  renewed  it  on  his  death-bed,  when  with  his  hand  in  mine 
he  joined  with  me  in  the  last  prayer.  May  I  hope  it  was 
the  Right  Hand  of  Fellowship  over  again,  and  a  welcome 
to  a  new  partnership  in  a  purer  ministry  ! 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  grandeur  of  a  true  life  never  ap- 
pears more  strikingly,  than  when  it  faces  the  last  enemy. 
There  it  stands  before  the  king  of  terrors,  unterrified.  The 
faith  is  then  all  it  has  claimed  to  be.  There  is  nothing  to 
take  back.  It  is  all  it  promised,  and  more.  It  is  stronger 
and  brighter  as  the  test  is  severer.  It  re-afifirms,  as  if  with 
angelic  words,  all  it  has  said  before.  Seemingly  in  the  con- 
flicts of  life,  that  faith  may  waver,  and  hesitate,  and  live  more 
in  its  inner  convictions  than  its  outward  victories.  But  the 
approach  of  death  seems  to  rouse  it,  and  carry  it  beyond 
itself,  as  it  were,  in  its  testimonies.  "All  right  up  there!" 
the  dying  pastor  exclaimed,  as  if  with  new  vision  ;  "  Christ 
is  not  far  away."  Such  is  the  strong  and  swift  utterance  as 
the  crisis  comes.  Only  a  few  days  before  his  death  he  spoke 
of  the  S.  S.  Centenary,  with  animation.  At  the  same  time, 
the  countenance  slightly  changing,  the  face  partly  hidden  in 
the  pillow,  he  says:  "But  I  am  wanted  here."  And  the 
bravery  of  the  submission  seemed  to  me  of  the  highest  order. 
Now  the  evidences  of  Christianity  stand  very  much  in  facts. 
A  fact  cannot  be  disputed.  You  know  there  are  some  who 
express  doubts  about  the  reality  of  reUgion.  Look  at  the 
fact  of  a  triumphant  death.  You  sometimes  argue  against 
the  opinions  and  beliefs  of  religion.  How  shall  you  argue 
with  that  fact }  If  I  could  see  unbelief  grow  stronger  at  the 
hour  of  death,  if  I  could  hear  it  utter  a  shout  of  victory,  if  I 
could  see  it  illuminated  and  transfigured,  if  some  hidden 
power  should  come  to  its  rescue  at  last,  and  put  irresistible 
speech  into  its  mouth,  there  would  be  the  telling  fact.  That 
fact  has  never  been  discovered.    Unbelief  goes  out  in  dark- 


48^ 

ness — at  best  never  jubilant.  It  never  sings  in  death  nor 
eagerly  reaches  forward.  But  the  fact  is,  that  your  beloved 
pastor  virould  tell  you  in  death  all  he  told  you  in  life,  and 
with  a  speech  fired  with  heaven's  glow  ;  in  sentences  sharp 
and  swift,  as  if  he  would  put  all  his  past  teaching  into  them. 
One  such  fact  ought  to  be  enough  to  demolish  and  scatter  to 
the  four  winds  of  heaven  all  the  unbelief  of  the  world.  Nor 
does  it  speak  to  the  reason  alone,  but  to  the  heart  also.  He 
seems  to  have  left  behind  him  a  pathway  of  light,  from  which 
our  eyes  cannot  wander.  And  down  the  golden  highway,  we 
seem  to  hear  the  heart-lingerings  of  the  old  love.  "  Not  as 
in  my  presence  only,  but  now  much  more  in  my  absence, 
work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  *  *  * 
that  I  may  rejoice  in  the  day  of  Christ,  that  I  have  not  run 
in  vain,  neither  labored  in  vain." 


PART  III. 


7 


1. 

ELEMENTS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

[Preached,  Pomfret,  August  6,  1871.] 


John  xix,  20. — And  it  was  written  in  Hebrew,  and  Greek,  and  Latin. 

Pilate  had  yielded  to  the  vindictive  demands  of  the  Jews 
and  had  crucified  our  Lord.  But  when,  in  accordance  with 
custom,  he  affixed  the  cause  of  his  condemnation  to  the  cross, 
he  determined  to  show  the  Jews  that  he  deemed  their  accu- 
sation only  the  fruit  of  their  envy  and  hatred.  He  expressed 
also  his  contempt  for  the  people  and  their  frequent  insurrec- 
tionary tumults  by  writing,  as  the  only  reason  for  putting 
Christ  to  death,  "This  is  the  King  of  the  Jews." 

Pilate  wrote  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment  and  with 
bitter  self-accusation,  what  seemed  best  calculated  to  throw 
off  the  responsibility  upon  the  Jews.  But  in  the  providence 
of  God  his  words,  so  hastily  written,  were  just  the  words  to 
attest  unto  the  world  the  fulfillment  of  prophecy,  that  Mes- 
siah, Son  of  David,  should  come  to  reign,  and  should  be 
lifted  up. 

In  writing  this  inscription  in  three  languages,  likewise, 
Pilate  was  conscious  only  of  seeking  to  give  the  utmost  pub- 
licity to  the  inscription.  The  three  languages  were  the  most 
wide-spread  in  the  world  at  that  time.  The  Latin  was  the 
governmental  language  ;  the  Greek  the  literary,  the  written 
language  in  that  part  of  the  world ;  the  Hebrew,  that  spoken 
by  the  common  people.  Thus,  all, — the  officials,  the  soldiery, 
the  strangers  from  all  parts  of  the  empire,  and  those  who 
dwelt  in  Judea  and  Galilee,  might  read  that  He  who  was 
dying  there  on  the  cross  was  King  of  the  Jews,  or  a  pre- 
tended King.  But  the  providence  of  God  designed  that 
there  should  be  another  and  far  deeper  meaning  conveyed 
by  those  three  tongues  to  us  who  read  the  inscription  in  the 


52 


light  of  the  unfolding  of  history  and  in  the  manifest  purpose 
of  Jehovah. 

These  were  the  languages  which  were  to  .spread  all  over 
the  world  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  purchased  by  this 
death  on  the  cross.  Not  now  merely  was  Jesus  to  be  an- 
nounced King,  not  mockingly  but  in  reality,  and  these 
tongues  were  to  be  the  chief  instrument  of  the  proclamation. 
It  was,  moreover,  through  the  Jews,  the  Greeks,  and  the 
Romans  that  the  earth  had  been  prepared  for  the  advent  and 
the  work  of  this  King. 

The  fullness  of  time  had  come,  because,  first,  God  had 
wrought  into  the  hearts  and  lives  of  his  people  Israel  the 
belief  in  one  God  and  impressed  upon  them,  through  His 
providence,  the  desire  and  the  hope  of  a  deliverer  ;  because, 
secondly,  Greek  culture  and  learning,  Greek  philosophy  and 
its  failure  had  made  the  minds  of  men  ready  to  hearken  to  the 
deepest  truths  ;  and,  finally,  Roman  sovereignty  and  law  had 
bound  the  nations  together  and  rhade  communication  every- 
where possible.  These  were  God's  preparation  for  the  coming 
of  Christ.  Thus  Pilate's  inscription,  meant  for  a  taunt,  was 
both  a  history  and  a  prophecy,  telling  to  any  one  who  could 
read  aright  how  all  forces,  spiritual,  mental,  and  physical,  had 
been  bent  and  were  to  bend  into  subserviency  to  God's 
mighty  plan  of  redemption. 

But  we  perceive  yet  another  significance  in  the  fact  of  the 
three  conjoined  languages  upon  the  cross.  Not  only  of  pre- 
vious preparation  and  of  future  triumph  does  it  speak,  but  it 
proclaims  the  truth  that  these  are  met  in  Christ,  and  that 
religion  and  culture  and  law  were  now  to  be  united  in  a 
new  faith,  and  were  to  pour  forth  their  blessing,  hence,  upon 
a  world. 

As  the  Queen  of  Sheba  brought  her  richest  treasures  to 
do  homage  to  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  as  the  wise  men  of  the 
East  poured  out  their  bounteous  gifts  in  adoration  of  the 
infant  Redeemer,  so  did  the  great  nations  of  the  earth  con- 
tribute their  wealth,  mental  and  spiritual,  to  endow  the 
religion  of  Him  who  was  wiser. than  Solomon,  more  glorious 
than  the  wise  men's  highest  aspirations. 


53 


Our  Lord  in  his  person  concentrated  all  the  beauty  and 
worth  and  nobility  of  character  which  had  ever  dwelt  in  men. 
In  like  manner  all  that  the  wisest,  the  best,  and  the  strongest 
had  thought  and  planned  and  wrought  out,  was  to  be  collected 
together  to  endow  the  new  organization  which  was  to  gather 
up  these  rich  treasures  and  then  scatter  them  for  the  benefit 
of  men. 

This  union  and  this  distribution,  the  reading  upon  the 
cross  symbolizes,  and  as  such  I  design  to  interpret  it  more 
at  length  in  this  discourse. 

The  three  tongues  speak  to  us  then,  first,  of  the  unifying 
of  Jewish  religion,  Greek  culture,  and  Roman  law  into 
Christianity.  Religion  had  its  birth  and  best  development 
in  Palestine,  or  rather  in  Mesopotamia  to  be  carried  into 
Palestine.  To  Abraham  and  his  descendants  had  God 
revealed  himself.  Their  Psalmists  and  Prophets  had  been 
inspired  of  God  to  utter  grandest  truths  of  God  and  the  soul 
of  man,  to  speak  of  national  and  private  sins  on  the  one 
hand,  and  of  a  glorious  redemption  on  the  other.  Through 
these  teachings  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and  through  the  varied 
lessons  of  their  history,  they  had  come  to  cling  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  existence  and  spirituality  of  the  Creator  and  of 
his  activity  in  the  affairs  of  the  world.  We  are  apt  to  think 
of  the  Jews  of  the  time  of  Christ  as  only  hard,  bigoted,  worldly 
Pharisees,  as  the  haters  of  goodness  and  the  murderers  of 
their  Lord  ;  but  we  must  remember  that  there  were  true 
Israelites  then,  and  that  among  them  alone  dwelt  the  pure 
knowledge  of  God.  Our  Lord  himself  averred,  "  Salva- 
tion is  of  the  Jews."  For  this  purpose  had  the  Lord  been 
leading  them  for  the  long  centuries,  that  there  might  be 
among  them  hearts  ready  to  receive  him  when  he  should 
come,  and  souls  fitted  to  apprehend  and  to  appropriate  his 
teachings  and  the  truths  flowing  out  from  his  life  and  death. 
The  new  religion  gathered  up  the  bequests  of  the  old,  added 
life,  spirit,  vigor,  to  them,  incorporated  them  into  its  own 
teachings  ;  and  these,  together,  made  the  fundamental  ele- 
ment of  that  power  which  was  to  conquer  the  world. 

But  God  had  been  leading  other  nations  by  ways  which 


54 


they  knew  not,  but  by  which  they  were  to  best  subserve  His 
plan.  As  unto  the  people  of  Israel  it  was  given  to  hold  the 
great  truths  of  religion  in  their  keeping,  unto  the  Greeks  it 
had  been  given  to  bring  to  their  most  perfect  development 
the  mind  and  body  of  man.  What  the  most  assiduous  intel- 
lectual and  physical  culture  could  do  for  humanity,  that  the 
people  of  Athens  and  Sparta  had  accomplished.  And  if  all 
their  striving  seemed  to  fail  to  bring  the  highest  good  to 
man,  and  could  not  save  them  from  ultimate  destruction,  yet 
their  work  was  not  to  end  in  themselves,  but  was  to  subserve 
the  purposes  of  God  in  adding  an  element  for  the  improve- 
ment of  future  generations. 

What  the  love  and  expression  of  the  most  perfect  material 
beauty  could  effect  for  the  refinement  of  man,  the  Greeks  did 
by  their  matchless  works  of  art.  The  intellect,  too,  would  seem 
to  have  received  the  largest  development  possible  through 
philosophical  search  for  truth  and  the  exercise  of  the  poetic 
faculty  ;  for  it  was  in  Greece  that  philosophy  and  poetry 
reached  their  utmost  perfection.  What  cultivation  of  the 
mind  could  do  for  man  without  God's  truth  to  feed  it,  may 
be  seen  by  looking  at  Greece  when  at  the  acme  of  her  glory. 
Although  this  culture  was  one-sided,  leaving  the  soul  and 
heart  unfurnished  with  their  proper  nutriment,  and  therefore 
unable  to  keep  the  people  from  sinking  into  degradation,  and 
being  weakened  by  vice  and  consumed  by  folly,  yet  it  was 
not  to  be  in  vain  that  among  the  little  isles  of  the  Egean,  and 
the  rocky  peninsulas  of  South  Eastern  Europe,  human  wis- 
dom had  elaborated  its  profoundest  reflection,  imagination 
had  taken  its  boldest  flights,  and  language  had  been  brought 
into  its  most  perfect  form.  Though  this  culture  was  inad- 
equate for  the  spiritual  or  even  for  the  temporal  salvation 
of  the  people  who  had  rejoiced  in  it,  yet  it  was  to  be  used  for 
bringing  the  tidings  of  salvation  to  the  ears  of  men,  and  was 
to  be  incorporated  into  or  made  subservient  to  the  religion 
which  was  to  accomplish  what  Grecian  culture  itself  could 
never  do  for  man. 

In  yet  another  direction  had  Rome  and  her  mighty  power 
been  providing  resources  for  Christianity  to  use.    She  had 


55 


prepared  the  way  for  its  rapid  promulgation  by  consolidating 
the  civilized  world  into  one  vast  empire  and  extending  her 
protecting  arm  wherever  men  should  desire  to  travel,  and  by 
constructing  those  splendid  highways  which  rendered  inter- 
course easy  and  speedy  from  one  part  to  another.  But 
besides  this  work  of  preparation  she  was  providing  elements 
which  should  help  to  strengthen  and  establish  the  new  reli- 
gion, and  in  after  times  should  be  a  power  in  the  progress 
and  elevation  of  the  race.  Law  and  government,  the  bonds 
of  the  state,  had  been  brought  far  towards  perfection  during 
the  more  than  seven  centuries  in  which  Rome  had  been 
attaining  to  universal  empire.  What  might  be  wrought 
through  the  political  machinery  by  the  mighty  power  of  law 
and  the  well-disciplined  state,  aided  by  Grecian  learning  and 
art,  for  the  prosperity  and  well-being  of  man,  Rome  had  well 
endeavored  to  effect.  The  bonds  were  not  sufficient  to  hold 
together  the  mighty  empire  which  had  been  thus  constructed, 
much  less  could  these  materials  build  up  a  perfect  society, 
but  they  could  be  employed,  and  God  designed  that  they 
should  be  employed  for  the  ultimate  building  up  of  a  kingdom 
which  should  indeed  be  an  empire  of  the  world — the  kingdom 
of  God  on  earth. 

Thus  religion,  culture,  and  law  should  unite  to  be  the  con- 
stituent elements  which  should  form  the  mighty  power  to 
perfect  the  individual,  to  harmonize  society,  to  mold  the  ideal 
state,  and  the  faultless  government.  Thus  we  discover  the 
meaning  of  the  three  inscriptions  on  the  cros.s,  and  what  the 
Hebrew  and  the  Greek  and  Latin  each  represents.  Chris- 
tianity brings  together  and  holds  all  that  these  designate. 
And  see  how  wonderfully  God  preserves  whatever  may  be 
employed  for  the  furtherance  of  His  plans,  even  out  of  the 
great  destructions  of  time.  Through  numberless  convul- 
sions and  catastrophes  of  the  primeval  earth  there  were 
treasured  up  wealth  of  minerals  and  stores  of  fuel  which 
should  in  after  ages  come  to  the  light  for  ministering  to  the 
comfort  and  delight  of  man.  For  an  almost  infinite  period 
they  were  concealed  in  the  secret  recesses  of  the  earth,  but 
the  very  convulsions  which  seemed  to  overwhelm  and  bury 


56 


them  forever,  supreme  wisdom  designed  sliould  be  the  means 
of  preserving  them  against  the  time  of  greatest  need.  Thus 
the  destruction  which  will  come  upon  these  bodies,  and  the 
corruption  which  shall  consume  them,  shall  serve,  we  believe, 
through  God's  wonderful  working,  only  to  hide  the  germ  out 
of  which  shall  grow  at  last  the  perfect  spiritual  body. 

In  like  manner  were  the  splendid  results  of  Grecian  art 
and  literature  buried  for  centuries,  withdrawn  as  it  might 
seem  forever  from  the  possibility  of  use  to  man.  The  choice 
products  of  her  language  and  art  found  reception  for  a  sea- 
son in  Rome,  but  the  mighty  empire  itself  could  not  long 
protect  them,  but  in  its  own  ruins  covered  them  from  the 
knowledge  of  man.  The  Goths  and  Vandals  shattered  the 
mighty  structure  which  had  been  so  many  centuries  in  build- 
ing, and  swept  into  apparent  final  oblivion  whatever  man 
had  hitherto  done  for  the  civilization  and  progress  of  the 
race.  But  this  seeming  destruction  and  burial  was  only  that 
God's  work  might  be  made  apparent  above  the  schemes  and 
efforts  of  man.  What  there  was  of  benefit  to  humanity,  God 
caused  to  emerge  from  the  desolation  and  to  lend  its  aid  for 
the  regeneration  of  the  nations.  On  the  moldering  foun- 
dations of  the  fallen  empire  arose  the  spiritual  hierarchy, 
which  again  bound  the  nations  together,  not  conquered  by 
armed  soldiers  as  before,  but  by  missionaries  of  the  cross. 
And  if  the  Roman  church  became  in  after  times  too  ambi- 
tious and  grasping,  if  it  declined  from  its  spirituality,  and  did 
not  perform  well  its  work  for  the  souls  of  men,  yet  we  see  the 
purpose  of  God  in  giving  it  tlie  inheritance  of  the  old  Roman 
empire.  It  made  Christianity,  even  if  in  many  cases  a  nom- 
inal religion  merely,  the  mistress  of  the  nations  which  were 
to  perform  the  great  part  in  history,  and  it  gave  Christianity 
the  vantage  and  the  foremost  place  in  the  civilization  that 
was  to  be. 

The  traditions  of  the  mighty  system,  too,  by  which  so 
many  nations  had  been  consolidated  into  an  almost  universal 
empire,  were  to  be  retained  by  the  church  and  appropriated 
to  its  own  universal  sway.  The  sense  of  law,  the  value  of 
social  unity,  the  grand  ideal  of  constitutional  states,  and 


57 


dimly  the  consciousness  of  the  rights — the  power  of  the 
people,  were  handed  down  half  wittingly  and  emerged  at 
length  from  the  darkness  of  the  feudal  ages  to  become  the 
prized  boon  of  modern  nations.  Thus  has  the  legacy  of  old 
Rome,  hid  away  in  corners  for  a  time,  been  given  again  to 
the  rightful  heirs,  when  through  the  training  of  Christianity 
they  had  become  able  to  use  it  for  their  good.  Concealed 
still  more  completely  were  the  possessions  which  Greece  had 
bequeathed,  except  indeed  her  incomparable  language  which 
had  to  be  the  winged  messenger  to  carry  the  glad  tidings  of 
salvation  to  those  who  sat  .  in  waiting.  But  that  was  soon 
discarded  and  her  philosophy  classed  with  heresy,  so  that  for 
centuries,  Greece  was  to  bide  her  hour  for  work  upon  the 
minds  of  men.  And  it  was  the  church's  ofifice  to  bring  her 
influence  again  to  bear,  and  at  length  to  unite  her  culture  to 
religious  faith.  The  school-men  studied  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle  and  based  their  theology  upon  his  theorems  and 
categories  ;  the  monks  exhumed  from  the  dust  of  ages  the 
old  classic  authors,  and  filled  up  their  tedious  days  by  copy- 
ing them  or  covering  over  the  parchments  which  contained 
them  with  the  lives  of  saints  and  martyrs.  The  writers  of 
antiquity  began  to  be  taught  and  studied,  the  old  culture 
widened  man's  sphere  of  thought,  and  awakened  that  ques- 
tioning spirit  which  at  length  made  them  dissatisfied  with 
the  apprehension,  the  narrowness,  and  bigotry  of  the  papal 
hierarchy.  And  we  all  know  how  that  desire  to  burst  re- 
straints of  man's  making,  grew  until  it  issued  in  the  reforma- 
tion. Thus  culture  promoting  liberality  of  sentiment  and 
breadth  of  thought  in  Christendom,  performing  its  part  in 
that  great  step  of  progress  which  reinstated  the  religion  of 
Christ  as  a  power  over  the  hearts  and  lives  of  men,  this  cul- 
ture, I  say,  when  combined  with  Christianity,  constitutes  the 
power  by  which  men  are  brought  to  perfection.  Thus,  was 
the  prophesy  implied  in  the  counsels  of  God,  of  the  threefold 
inscription  on  the  cross,  fulfilled.  Religion  and  culture  and 
law,  all  flow  again  from  the  cross  as  powers  combined  into 
one  to  make  what  we  now  call  Christianity. 

So  much  for  the  fulfillment  of  the  unconscious  prophecy  of 
8 


5« 

Pilate  concerning  the  external  relations  of  Christianity  with 
the  Jewish  religiousness,  Grecian  culture  and  Roman  govern- 
ment. 

We  advance  another  step  and  observe  that  all  that  these 
had  for  the  good  of  man,  Christ's  religion  contained.  What 
the  Greek  aimed  after,  his  loftiest  ideal,  is  found  in  Chris- 
tianity. Whatever  the  Roman  conception  of  an  universal 
government  and  the  jight  union  of  all  parts  into  a  harmoni- 
ous whole  could  effect  for  man  Christianity  provides  for. 
And  likewise  Jewish  piety  and  morality  have  been  intensified 
and  spiritualized  through  Christianity. 

We  may  expand  this  observation  and  taking  the  character- 
istics of  three  peoples  as  epitomizing  those  of  all  nations, 
affirm  with  truth  that  in  Christianity  is  found  the  realizations 
of  all  men's  aspirations,  the  end  for  which  in  their  best  mo- 
ments thev  have  earnestly  sought.  It  has  often  been  one  of 
the  favorite  devices  of  the  opponents  of  Christianity,  to 
search  in  heathen  writings,  and  among  other  religions,  to  find 
there  precepts  of  morality,  teachings  of  religious  truth,  reve- 
lations of  God  similar  to  those  which  fell  from  the  lips  of 
Christ,  or  are  written  in  the  New  Testament. 

Finding  such  detached  fragments,  here  and  there,  they 
have  rejoiced  as  if  by  these  Christianity  had  been  anticipated 
or  superseded.  They  have  exulted  over  the  finding  of  the 
shattered  pieces  more  than  when  they  behold  the  complete, 
finished  statue  in  its  perfect  beauty.  For  what  they  claim 
is  true  if  only  we  reverse  their  order  of  statement.  They 
state  that  what  is  contained  in  Christianity,  may  be  found  in 
other  religions.  And  it  is  a  fact  that  \vhs.t  of  truth  other 
religions  held,  Christianity  has  combined  into  itself.  The 
aspirations  which  the  religious  instincts  of  men  have  prompt- 
ed in  one  and  another,  are  all  fulfilled  in  Christ's  life  and 
revelations.  The  ideal,  which  earnest  men  have  sought  after 
for  themselves  and  the  world,  has  its  realization  in  the  glori- 
ous teachings  of  our  religion.  Glimpses  of  truth  concerning 
God,  the  soul  and  the  spiritual  life  in  God,  have  at  different 
times  flashed  upon  the  gaze  of  men  like  the  stars  here  and 
there  shining  through  the  clouds  in  a  stormy  night.  Christ, 


59 


as  if  by  a  magic  wand,  has  dispersed  all  the  clouds,  and  the 
whole  beauty  and  glory  of  the  visible  sky  of  truth  has  beamed 
forth  to  light  man  on  his  voyage  to  the  further  shore. 

Or,  to  vary  the  figure,  we  may  say  that  the  great  light  of 
the  central  sun  has  overpowered  the  lesser  lights  by  absorb- 
ing them  into  itself. 

"I  am  the  light  of  the  world"  was  Christ's  own  declara- 
tion, a  light  not  seen  by  many,  or  seen  only  in  reflection,  but 
none  the  less  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  from  which  all  lesser 
luminaries  have  borrowed  their  milder  lustre. 

"  I  am  the  Truth"  was  again  the  claim  of  Christ ;  an 
affirmation  which  we  can  again  and  again  substantiate  by 
tracing  each  element  of  religion  which  we  meet  up  to  him  as 
the  great  unifying  and  complete  whole.  And  we  need  bear  in 
mind  that  it  is  Christ  that  is  the  truth  ;  not  what  he  teaches, 
not  the  facts  of  his  life  taken  separately,  but  his  person,  his 
divinity,  his  humanity.  It  is  now  that  we  find  the  central 
light  which  illuminates  all  the  history  of  religion  in  heathen- 
dom and  Judaism  as  well  as  in  Christianity.  Placing  our- 
selves by  the  cross  of  our  Redeemer,  we  gaze  out  into  the 
the  darkness  of  idolatry,  and  the  rays  beaming  thence,  dis- 
close to  us  the  multitudinous  forms  of  worship,  and  the  num- 
berless deities,  the  sacrifices,  the  prayers,  the  deep,  tragic 
thinking  and  searching  of  the  vast  throngs  who  have  been 
thus  seeking  a  way  to  God,  and  as  we  thus  look  we  begin  to 
grasp  the  meaning  of  it  all,  and  behold  the  explanation  :  they 
ignoraiitly  ivorsliip  tlic  false ;  but  it  is  because  there  is  a 
true,  and  the  spirit  is  moving  them  toward  it,  as  the  star  drew 
the  wise  men  from  the  East  to  the  cradle.  They  offer  sacri- 
fices because  a  sacrifice  is  necessary  to  relieve  them  from  their 
burden,  and  blindly  they  grope  after  the  true  sacrifice.  They 
seek  after  God,  and  God  is  coming,  indeed  has  come  to  earth 
to  seek  them  straying  into  the  wilderness.  The  great  reli- 
gions of  the  globe  have  in  one  way  or  another  by  symbol  or 
explicit  teaching  signified  a  yearning  after  a  union  of  human- 
ity with  divinity. 

The  absorption  of  Brahminism,  the  purification  by  fire,  of 
Zoroastrianism,  the  many  incarnations  of  Egyptian  and  Indian 


6o 


deities,  the  humanizing  of  the  gods  of  Greece,  testify  to  this 
almost  universal  desire  and  belief  of  man,  that  humanity 
should  at  length  have  part  in  divinity  that  the  divine  should 
become  human. 

These  aspirations,  these  strivings  are  all  met  and  answered 
in  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  divine  has  thus 
been  brought  down  into  the  comprehension  and  reach  of  man  ; 
humanity  has  thus  been  lifted  up  into  divinity.  The  God 
man  unifies  all  religious  truth  and  makes  it  himself ;  for 
when  by  his  incarnation  and  sacrifice  he  has  made  perfection 
possible  to  man,  the  end  and  aim  of  all  the  soul's  yearnings 
and  strivings  have  been  found.  The  absorption  into  deity  of 
the  Indian  saga,  the  utmost  limit  of  culture  of  the  Greek 
philosopher  cannot  reach  so  far  as  this  for  the  individual  ;  the 
completest  realization  of  the  dreatns  of  the  Romans  of  uni- 
versal social  order  and  unity,  cannot  surpass  what  it  shall 
accomplish  for  society  and  the  state. 

Thus  the  ideal  of  all  religions  and  nations  is  found  in  the 
coming  of  Christ  and  in  the  cross. 

And  again,  we  remark,  modern  thought  and  the  aspirations 
of  to-day  have  their  foundation  and  their  fulfillment  likewise 
here.  There  can  be  no  antagonism  between  scientific  and 
religious  truth.  All  tr?ith  is  religious.  There  could  have 
been  no  science  without  the  habits  of  thought,  the  humility, 
the  patience,  the  teachableness,  above  all,  the  keen  love  of 
truth  for  its  own  sake  which  Christianity  teaches  and  of  which 
it  has  for  eighteen  hundred  years  offered  countless  examples. 
There  would  be  wanting  the  greatest  stimulus  to  culture  if 
there  were  absent  that  yearning  to  be  freed  from  imperfec- 
tion which  our  religion  inspires,  and  which  lies  at  the  begin- 
ning and  must  be  the  constant  accompaniment  of  what  we 
call  progress.  Society  would  be  dissolved  and  perish  if  the 
great  principles  of  Christianity,  the  brotherhood  of  man,  the 
redemption  of  the  race  through  a  divine  Redeemer,  and  im- 
mortality were  lost  sight  of.  Vain  were  all  laws  of  the  state, 
all  attempts  to  unify  an  empire,  if  the  divine  law  were  abol- 
ished and  through  divine  energy  no  longer  acted  upon  indi- 
viduals to  raise  them  up  from  sin  and  vice.    Modern  thought 


61 


and  modern  reason  boast  themselves  much  of  their  inde- 
pendence of  and  superiority  to  the  old  doctrines  of  faith. 
But  besides  what  they  owe  in  the  past  to  the  direct  influence 
of  the  truths  of  our  religion,  it  will  be  found  their  end  and 
object,  so  far  forth  as  they  have  the  good  of  man  in  view, 
have  been  anticipated  by  and  are  incorporated  in  the  incar- 
nation and  sacrifice  of  Christ. 

There  are  two  new  gospels  proposed  by  modern  thought — 
the  gospel  of  culture  and  the  gospel  of  law.  I  say  new 
gospels,  but  in  what  I  have  said  of  Greece  and  Rome  do  we 
not  see  that  they  are  old,  that  they  have  already  been  weighed 
and  been  found  wanting  And  besides,  the  gospel  of  law, 
though  differing  in  the  respect  that  it  is  now  the  law  of  nature 
and  not  of  man,  yet  has  all  the  harshness,  rigor,  and  inexorable 
severity  of  the  old.  Mr.  Huxley,  one  of  its  leading  disciples, 
says  that  "  Nature  which  is  to  teach  us  and  lead  us  on  in  the 
path  of  limitless  progress,  has  no  way  of  teaching  but  by  a 
word  and  a  blow,  and  the  blow  comes  first." 

We  turn  from  this  stern  mistress  unto  the  master  whose 
teaching  and  example  we  are  taught  to  follow,  and  we  have 
the  promise  of  being  led  along  the  same  path  by  a  hand  that 
is  never  raised  to  strike  us,  and  fo  which  we  can  cling  in 
loving  trust.  We  hear  his  voice  only  to  cheer,  to  warn,  and 
to  encourage  us  ;  his  gentle  invitations  fall  upon  our  ears, 
and  we  are  urged  by  them  to  hasten  on.  We  see  him  in  his 
beauty  ;  his  grace  and  the  glory  of  his  perfection  are  constant 
inspirers  to  us  to  hasten  to  become  like  him.  And  from  the 
cradle  of  Bethlehem  in  which  he  lay,  from  the  cross  on  which 
he  hung  dying,  and  from  the  grave  out  of  which  he  has  risen, 
comes  the  ever  cheering  hope  that  because  God  has  come 
down  and  taken  humanity  up  into  his  bosom  and  overcome 
death  for  us,  therefore  we  may  all  rise  over  the  grave  and 
dwell  with  divinity. 

It  is  the  perfection  of  the  individual  and  of  society,  which 
is  the  aim  of  our  religion,  as  well  as  that  of  the  most  enthu- 
siastic of  modern  philosophers,  but  our  way  towards  it  is  not 
to  be  trodden  over  a  dark  and  lonely  road  ;  a  harsh  mistress 
ever  meeting  us  with  rebuffs  and  discouragements  and  show- 


62 


ing  us  at  the  best  only  a  very  dim  hope  that  the  race  shall 
reach  the  goal,  while  the  countless  individuals  who  throng 
the  way  shall  be  trodden  under  foot  and  perish, — costly  sacri- 
fices of  humanity  for  a  dubious  end,  instead  of  the  infinite 
ransom  paid  by  divinity  for  a  certain  deliverance. 

Christianity  nowhere  contradicts  the  laws  of  nature ;  she 
everywhere  reaffirms  them,  even  in  her  miracles,  even  in  the 
greatest  of  all  miracles,  the  incarnation  and  resurrection. 
She  asserts  natures  to  be  unchangeable.  She  adds  the  super- 
natural because  nature  is  not  sufficient  in  her  unalterable 
economy  to  effect  the  great  object,  the  ultimate  redemption 
of  man,  the  raising  him  and  the  race  to  perfection.  Christ- 
ianity does  not  reject  culture,  education  by  law  or  by  study ; 
she  uses  them  and  supplements  them  by  an  element  which 
strengthens  the  power  and  refines  the  grace  which  they  can 
give.  Historically,  as  well  as  in  her  essential  principles, 
we  find  it  true  that  whatever  there  is  of  good,  whatever  of 
truth,  whatever  of  beauty,  Christianity  has  been  found  capable 
of  appropriating  and  her  truest  disciples  willing  to  receive.  It 
is  only  insisted  upon  by  her  Founder  that  righteousness  and 
the  kingdom  of  God  shall  hold  the  first  place  in  the  heart,  and 
then  naturally,  logically,  all  the  other  things  are  added  for  the 
well-being  of  man. 

The  New  Testament  insists,  and  from  the  fact  that  God 
has  taken  all  humanity  up  into  himself  vinst  insist,  upon  the 
perfection  of  the  whole  man.  It  promises,  and  by  promising 
enjoins,  the  complete  sanctification  of  mind  and  body  as  well 
as  soul.  It  looks  forward  to  the  complete  building  up  of  each 
individual  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  through  this  to  the 
complete  restoration  of  the  kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 
Nothing  more  glorious  for  man  can  be  thought  of  than  the 
hopes  and  promises  held  out  by  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ, 
all  flowing  from  the  mighty  fact  that  He,  the  mighty  Son  of 
God,  has  taken  flesh  and  expiated  the  sins  of  the  world. 

Behold  here  the  simplicity,  the  vast  comprehensiveness  of 
the  plan  of  God.  One  single  fact  accepted  and  acted  upon 
puts  us  all  in  the  highway  of  infinite  progress.  Starting  from 
this,  all  work  for  the  good  of  man,  for  the  advancement  of 


63 


the  race,  becomes  successful  ;  starting  anywhere  else,  all  is 
thrown  into  confusion.  Culture,  dissevered  from  religion, 
will  produce  a  people  whose  intellect  may  be  as  cJear  and 
strong  and  active  as  was  that  of  the  ancient  Grecians,  but 
gentleness,  kindness,  love,  and  purity  of  heart  and  manners 
will  die  out,  and  vice  and  corruption  will  hurry  them  to 
destruction. 

Law,  order,  whether  it  be  social  or  natural,  as  the  only 
basis  of  society  or  the  state  may  build  up  a  huge  material 
frame-work,  but  it  will  soon  become  all  rotten  within,  and  the 
discordant  mass  will  fall  to  the  ground  by  its  own  weight,  as 
the  great  Roman  empire  fell.  For  in  each  of  these  man 
starts  in  his  toilsome  work  alone,  and  there  is  not  inherent 
force  sufificient  in  mere  humanity,  nor  in  nature,  to  carry 
him  prosperously  to  the  completion  of  his  task.  We  must 
add  divinity  to  our  forces  to  overcome  the  inertia  of  a  wicked 
world  and  move  it  on  in  the  path  of  progress.  And  this 
force  we  have  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  United  to  him  we 
each  move  heavenward.  Beginning  with  him,  using  all  other 
forces  as  we  may,  we  advance  the  whole  race  toward  the 
millennial  goal. 

How  grand  in  its  simplicity  is  the  power  put  into  our 
hands,  brethren  and  sisters  In  preaching  Christ  by  our 
word  and  lives  we  preach  reform,  we  help  toward  good  gov- 
ernment, we  build  up  a  strong,  harmonious  society,  we  spread 
enlightenment,  we  confer  comfort,  we  aid  true  science  ; 
goodness,  truth,  and  blessedness  are  dispensed  on  every 
hand.  ■» 

In  preaching  Christ  we  are  performing  the  work  of  phi- 
losophers, statesmen,  philanthropists.  Having  our  own  lives 
hid  with  Christ  in  God,  we  take  hold  on  the  eternal  and  the 
infinite.  Then  have  we  entered  on  a  boundless  ocean, 
scattered  all  over  with  enchanted,  blessed  isles,  from  one  to 
another  of  which  we  sail,  taking  new  enjoyment  and  receiving 
new  good  at  each.  We  look  back  with  grateful  joy  to  the 
beginning  of  our  course  and  behold  the  pure  light  gleaming 
from  the  cradle  of  Christ,  shining  all  the  way  down  to  the 
cross  and  thence  to  our  hearts.    We  look  around  at  the  ad- 


64 


vancing  hosts,  we  view  with  surprised  gladness  the  grand 
work  we  are  together  accomplishing,  how  knowledge  and 
wisdom  are  increasing  and  blessing  man,  how  good  govern- 
ment and  a  harmonious  society  are  growing  up  under  the 
hand  of  Christlike  men,  how  misery  and  sin  are  disappearing, 
and  over  all  we  behold  the  cross,  shining,  as  the  legend  says 
Constantine  saw  it,  symbol  that  God  by  the  advent  of  Christ 
has  taken  up  humanity  into  his  infinite  arms.  We  gaze  upon 
it,  and  realize  as  never  before  that  here  we  behold  the  mighty 
cause  and  the  glorious  result,  and  are  impressed  with  the 
truth  that,  as  all  good  that  has  been  taught  converges  through 
the  coming  of  Christ  into  the  cross,  so  out  of  it  diverge 
infinite  lines  along  which  forever  flow  blessedness  and  power 
and  glorious  hope  to  mankind.  And  we  will  tell  this  truth  to 
man,  and  we  will  help  this  light  to  shine  forth  into  the  dark- 
ness, counting  ourselves  favored  that  we  have  such  a  place, 
and  that  we  can  use  such  a  power.  And  for  our  reward, 
looking  down  the  future,  we  can  behold  the  cross,  and  upon 
it,  superscribed  not  in  three  tongues  but  in  all  the  languages 
of  the  earth,  in  letters  of  light  that  can  be  read  by  us  all, 
"  This  is  the  King  of  the  world." 


II. 


THE  SON  OF  MAN ;  OR,  CHRIST'S  HUMANITY  IN 
ITS  RELATION  TO  US. 

[Preached,  Rockville,  August  23,  1874.] 


Matt.  26 :  63,  64. — And  the  High  Priest  answered  and  said  unto 
him,  I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that  thou  tell  us  whether  thou 
be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.  Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Thou  hast 
said  :  Nevertheless  I  say  unto  you.  Hereafter  slial!  ye  see  the  Son  of 
man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven. 

I  have  .selected  this  portion  of  scripture  because  there  is, 
conjoined  here  by  Jesus  himself,  the  two  titles  by  which  he 
identifies  himself  both  with  the  divine  and  with  the  hu- 
man nature,  confessing  himself  to  be  Son  of  God,  and  yet 
taking  care  to  assert  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  the  Son  of 
Man. 

I  present  this  not  for  the  purpose  of  proving  the  Divinity 
of  our  Lord,  but  to  make  more  prominent  his  Jmmanity  in 
its  relations  to  us. 

I.  The  use  of  the  phrase  Son  of  Man  in  Scripture  is 
very  significant. 

This  may  be  especially  noted  by  comparing  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  employed  in  Ezekiel  and  in  the  Gospels.  In 
the  former  it  is  the  term  applied  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  the 
prophet  on  occasion  of  his  wonderful  visions.  It  is  never 
given  by  the  prophet  to  himself.  Its  object  seems  to  be  to 
keep  him  constantly  in  mind  of  his  frailty  as  man,  "lest  like 
Paul  he  should  be  exalted  above  measure  by  the  abundance 
of  the  revelations  given  unto  him."  In  reference  to  our 
Lord,  however,  the  phrase  is  never  employed  except  by  him- 
self, until  after  his  ascension — when  it  is  used  by  Stephen 
and  by  John  in  the  Revelation  to  denote  the  glorified  diad 
triumphant  Man  Christ  Jesus. 
9 


66 


More  than  sixty  times,  as  recorded  in  the  Gospels,  did  our 
Lord  speak  of  himself  by  this  appellation.  It  is,  if  I  may 
say  so,  his  favorite  name. 

Surely,  this  is  not  without  its  deep  meaning, — which  let 
us  seek  to  discover. 

I  think  we  find  a  double  significance  in  this  remarkable 
use  of  those  words. 

I.  Christ  wished  always  to  impress  upon  his  disciples  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  man,  having  all  things  in  common  with 
man.  While  he  was  performing  his  wonderful  works,  which 
in  themselves  proclaim  him  divine,  while  there  were  heard 
voices  from  heaven  calling  him  the  beloved  Son  of  the  Heav- 
enly Father,  while  some  were  witnesses  of  that  glorious 
transfiguration  which  made  his  human  form  seem  like  a 
shade  in  the  midst  of  the  divine  splendor,  while  the  time  was 
coming  when  that  form  which  had  moved  among  them  was 
to  be  taken  up  out  of  their  sight  into  the  clouds  of  heaven, 
the  disciples  needed  to  be  reminded  that  the  Wonderful  who 
had  appeared  was  human  as  well  as  divine. 

Accordingly,  we  find  that  it  was  after  the  Transfiguration 
that  Jesus  took  his  disciples  apart,  and  told  them  that  the 
Son  of  Man,  the  very  one  who  had  just  been  glorified  and 
anointed,  as  it  were,  with  the  Holy  radiance  as  the  Son  of 
God, — was  he  whom  they  had  seen  as  divine,  but  must  know 
as  human,  who  should  be  delivered  up  to  the  Scribes  and 
Pharisees,  and  be  put  to  a  shameful  death. 

It  was  when  Peter  was  to  make  the  remarkable  confession 
upon  which  the  church  should  be  founded,  that  Jesus  was 
the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  that  the  question  was  put  in  a 
form  to  unite  the  humanity  in  the  same  sentence  with  the 
confession  of  the  divinity, — "  Whom  say  ye  that  I,  the  Son 
of  Man,  am  When  he  was  on  trial,  after  the  admission  to 
the  High  Priest  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  he  seemed  to 
be  unwilling  to  let  the  occasion  pass  of  avowing  himself  the 
Son  of  Man.  It  was  the  man  Christ  Jesus  who  was  to  appear 
in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  in  glory. 

Perhaps  we,  in  modern  times,  find  no  difificulty  in  compre- 
hending and  receiving  the  fact  that  Jesus  was  a  man.  The 


67 


difficulty  seems  to  be  in  comprehending  the  divinity.  But 
with  the  early  disciples  it  was  not  so.  We  find  whole  sects 
denying  the  true  humanity  of  Jesus.  This  was  the  earliest 
heresy.  The  Docetae  and  the  Gnostics  believed  that  the 
body  of  Christ  was  only  an  apparent  body,  that  his  suffer- 
ings, his  death,  and  resurrection  were  not  real.  God  took  a 
form,  but  the  form  was  all.    The  appearance  was  a  delusion. 

To  men  inclined  thus  to  dispute  the  evidence  of  their 
senses,  which  testified  of  Jesus  as  increasing  in  wisdom  and 
stature,  and  as  eating,  sleeping,  weeping,  suffering,  and  dying, 
it  was  of  moment  to  have  our  Lord's  own  words  to  quote  and 
to  be  reminded  that  He  delighted  to  call  himself  the  Son  of 
Man. 

2.  But  there  is  in  this  phrase.  Son  of  Man,  a  deeper 
meaning  which  Jesus  meant  to  convey  to  his  disciples,  than 
simply  this,  that  he  was  in  all  respects  a  man.  He  was  the 
Son  of  Man — not  a  son  of  a  man — but  the  Son  of  Man. 
Two  precious  truths  lie  hidden  here. 

{a)  He  was  the  representative  man.  All  humanity  found 
its  epitome  in  Him.  Born  in  Judea,  he  was  not  a  Jew. 
Child  of  the  East,  yet  there  was  nothing  oriental  in  him.  It 
is  of  not  small  significance  that  Luke  traces  his  genealogy 
not  to  David,  not  to  Abraham,  but  to  Adam.  Jew  and  Gen- 
tile meet  in  him.  The  descendants  of  Shem,  of  Ham,  and 
of  Japhet  find  anew  a  central  point  in  him.  All  other  men 
have  been  national,  provincial,  having  race  characteristics, 
class  characteristics,  family  peculiarities,  individual  peculiari- 
ties. But  Jesus  was  simply  human  ;  what  belonged  to  univer- 
sal human  nature  as  it  came  from  the  idea  of  the  Creator  he 
possessed,  but  nothing  local,  nothing  partial.  Brought  up  in 
Nazareth,  yet  was  there  no  mark  of  the  obscure  country  vil- 
lage in  his  character.  His  sympathies  were  world-wide,  he 
had  no  prejudices,  no  narrow,  distorted  views  of  other  people 
than  his  own. 

Whoever  reads  the  life  of  Jesus  is  struck  with  wonder  at 
this  fact, — the  Roman,  the  Samaritan,  the  Syrophaenician, 
the  "  nations  of  the  earth"  are  all  spoken  of  and  treated  with 
the  same  tenderness,  the  same  far-reaching  love,  the  same 


68 


wise  comprehension  of  what  they  were  and  needed,  as  his 
own  countrymen. 

Emerson  and  others  have  written  of  representative  men, 
selecting  those  great  poets,  orators,  statesmen,  and  warriors 
who  stand  so  high  above  all  others  that  they  may  be  consi- 
dered the  chosen  ones  of  their  class,  embodying  all  the  excel- 
lences and  splendor  of  the  lesser  lights.  So  Shakespeare 
and  Goethe  stand  for  what  is  supreme  in  poetry,  Demosthenes 
and  Cicero  for  what  is  highest  in  oratory.  Napoleon  and 
Alexander  sum  up  in  themselves  the  glory  of  the  warrior. 
So  one  man  sometimes  seems  to  combine  the  highest  charac- 
teristics of  a  race  and  to  present  in  his  own  person  all  its 
most  peculiar  qualities.  So  Abraham  and  Moses  as  repre- 
sentatives for  the  Jewish  nation,  Plato  for  the  Greeks,  Shakes- 
peare and  Bacon  for  the  English,  Voltaire  for  the  French. 
They  are  the  men  in  whom  the  nation  takes  most  pride  as 
presenting  a  reflection  of  what  they  most  admire  in  themselves. 

But,  if  we  should  try,  we  could  not  think  what  class  or 
nation  could  find  most  of  itself  in  Jesus.  And  yet  all,  even 
those  who  deny  His  divinity,  acknowledge  Him  to  be  a  ma7i 
above  all  others.  Whatever  there  was  in  man  was  not 
foreign  to  Him.  This  we  may  say  of  Him  in  an  infinitely 
higher  sense  than  the  Roman  poet  said  it  of  himself. 

He  had  the  wisdom  and  foresight  to  plan  and  to  subdue  and 
triumph  which  great  warriors  and  statesmen  have  ;  he  had 
that  love  of  the  beautiful,  and  that  insight  into  truth  which 
makes  illustrious  poets  and  philosophers  ;  he  exhibited  that 
sway  over  men's  minds  and  hearts,  and  that  deep,  sure  pene- 
tration into  their  motives  which  have  given  the  greatest 
orators  and  leaders  their  power  to  move  men. 

He  mingled  with  the  most  learned  and  the  wisest  men  of 
His  time,  and  they  acknowledged  him  as  their  equal,  even  in 
His  early  youth  ;  He  went  among  the  ignorant  and  the 
wretched,  and  they  met  with  no  patronizing  condescension, 
no  arrogance  of  superiority  which  would  thrust  them  from 
Him. 

In  His  poverty,  he  stood  among  the  rich,  meeting  them  in 
His  simple  humanity,  without  flattery  or  obsequiousness. 


69 


telling  them  just  the  truths  which  they  needed  to  hear,  at  the 
same  time  He  made  the  poor  to  feel  that  they  had  a  near 
friend  in  Him,  and  that  they  might  come  freely  to  Him  and 
meet  with  no  proud  rebuff.  Even  the  lowest  and  the  vilest 
were  persuaded  that  they  had  a  point  of  contact  in  Him. 

Speaking  of  His  mind  and  soul  and  heart,  we  might  say 
that  as  the  sum  of  humanity  was  comprehended  in  Him,  He 
had  all  most  excellent  traits  of  both  male  and  female.  There 
was  no  mark  of  masculine  strength,  nobility  nor  dignity 
wanting  in  Him  on  the  one  hand  :  and  on  the  other  no  trace 
of  feminine  gentleness  and  tenderness  and  love  ever  seen 
in  the  most  womanly  woman  but  was  found  in  Him. 

(6.)  But  our  phrase  means  also  that  he  was  the  perfect  man, 
the  symmetrical  man,  the  complete  man. 

All  other  men,  even  the  greatest,  have  been  fragmentary, 
as  well  as  imperfect.  When  the  great  sculptors  wish  to 
form  the  ideal  figure,  they  can  never  find  any  one  man  or 
woman  who  can  sit  as  a  model.  They  are  obliged  to  take 
this  feature  from  one,  that  from  another,  and  combine  perhaps 
a  score  to  form  the  one  ideal.  And  when  the  poet  or  the 
novelist  strive  to  portray  their  ideal  hero,  they  are  likewise 
obliged  to  borrow  qualities  of  mind  and  heart  and  soul  from 
the  purest  and  best,  with  which  to  endow  their  imaginary 
perfect  man  or  woman,  and  always  with  a  consciousness  that 
the  character  portrayed  is  unsatisfactory  to  themselves  and 
others.  And  so  we  must  select  the  highest  characteristic  we 
know  from  one,  a  different  one  from  another,  and  so  on  until 
we  have  gathered  as  widely-varied  and  surpassingly  glorious 
a  group  of  excellences  as  we  are  able  to  find  in  the  best 
humanity  we  know,  and  then  we  shall  fail  in  representing  to 
ourselves  the  perfection  of  Jesus. 

No  one  of  the  greatest  painters  has  ever  succeeded  in 
producing  a  satisfactory  picture  of  our  Lord.  They  all  fall 
below  our  conception  of  the  character  which  moves  before  us 
in  the  simple,  natural  history  of  the  Gospels. 

If  you  will  analyze  for  a  moment  the  highest  and  best  of  all 
those  whom  you  know,  either  through  reading  or  by  personal 
acquaintance,  you  will  speedily  acknowledge  that  the  most 


70 


perfect  of  human  characters  lack  immensely  in  completeness 
as  well  as  in  perfection. 

All  historic  characters  are  full  of  such  incongruities  and 
contradictions.  The  vast  majority  of  lives  are  common- 
place, reaching  to  no  great  height  of  virtue  or  piety  or  genius. 
There  is  no  approach  to  perfection.  But  occasionally  it 
seems  as  if  Nature  made  an  attempt  to  produce  a  model  man, 
and  then  we  are  forced  to  see  how  vain  is  the  effort,  how 
nature's  mightiest  productions  are  in  sojne  respects  failures, 
one-sided,  fragmentary,  incomplete. 

The  world-moving  eloquence  of  Demosthenes  was  mingled 
with  practical  folly  ;  that  of  Cicero  with  vanity  and  coward- 
ice ;  the  far-reaching  wisdom  of  our  Bacon  did  not  prevent 
his  treachery  to  his  friend,  his  baseness  to  his  country  :  the 
mighty  genius  of  a  Shakspeare  or  a  Goethe  was  debased  by 
the  lusts  of  the  flesh  ;  the  marvelous  mental  powers  of  a 
Napoleon  were  overshadowed  by  his  almost  incredible 
meanness  and  cruelty.  The  very  strength  of  a  man  in  one 
direction  seems  almost  to  necessitate  a  corresponding  weak- 
ness in  another  in  nature's  best  products,  as  in  the  fruits  of 
California,  in  which  enormous  size  is  counter-balanced  by 
inferior  quality. 

Even  when  Nature  has  given  intellectual  greatness  and  a 
soul  which  the  spirit  of  God  could  fill  with  the  most  beauti- 
ful graces,  it  happens  as  in  the  case  of  St.  Paul  and  Socrates, 
that  she  must  needs  put  such  souls  and  minds  in  miserable 
bodies. 

In  some  way,  she  tells  the  tale  over  and  over  that  our 
humanity  is  in  ruins,  and  that  out  of  these  ruins  /lere,  there 
can  be  only  an  imperfect,  incomplete  structure.  Our  earthly 
heroes  fall,  some  of  them  so  grievously — and  what  we  thought 
beautiful  and  symmetrical,  upon  closer  inspection  shows 
grievous  flaws  and  woful  inconsistencies. 

But  we  look  up  at  the  height  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  we 
behold  at  length  one  who  towers  above  all  these  sons  of 
earth,  and  in  the  grand  proportions  of  His  humanity  we  can 
discover  no  defect.  The  genius  or  the  fame  of  other  men  has 
only  served  to  call  closer  attention  to  the  fatal  deficiencies  of 


71 


their  natures,  but  as  the  name  of  Jesus  is  spread  wider  and 
wider  over  the  earth,  and  as  the  generations  of  men,  one 
after  another,  scan  more  and  more  narrowly  each  lineament  of 
His  character,  His  wide-spread  and  lasting  fame  only  brings 
out  more  conspicuously  the  complete  perfection  of  His  person. 
We  call  Shakespeare  and  Goethe  many-sided.  Jesus  is  all- 
sided.  In  mind  and  soul  and  heart  and  in  body  (if  we  may  be- 
lieve tradition)  there  can  be  found  no  defect,  no  feature  or 
quality  wanting  to  make  up  the  perfect  man.  If  we  can 
think  of  anything  grand,  of  anything  noble,  of  anything 
beautiful,  of  anything  good  which  belongs  to  human  nature, 
examine  closely  the  character  of  Christ  and  you  will  find  it 
there.  As  says  another,  "  the  patience  of  Job,  the  faith  of 
Abraham,  the  persistency  of  Jacob,  the  royal  humility  of 
David,  the  boldness  and  faithfulness  of  Elijah,  the  trust  and 
fearlessness  of  Daniel,  the  love  of  John,  the  zeal  of  Peter, 
the  devotion  of  Paul,  all  are  concentrated  in  the  Son  of  Man." 
All  the  active,  aggressive,  energetic,  and  heroic  virtues  of 
man  ;  all  the  sweet,  gentle,  loving,  beautiful  and  meek  graces 
of  woman  ;  all  the  docile,  trustful,  hopeful,  and  obedient 
spirit  of  the  little  child  ;  all  and  more  than  these  virtues  met 
in  Him,  and  without  any  of  the  excesses  or  the  defects  with 
which  they  are  accompanied  in  other  men ;  each  so  complete 
in  itself,  each  so  harmonious  with  all  the  others,  that  there 
was  no  note  of  discord  in  all  his  humanity  ! 

Yet  we  feel  that  this  perfection  was  entirely  human,  there 
was  nothing  there  which  does  not  belong  to  a  finished  human- 
ity. He  is  not  so  superhumanly  great,  so  lifted  above  our 
conceptions  of  what  man  ought  to  be,  as  to  put  him  alto- 
gether out  of  our  reach.  He  was  no  mystical  demi-god,  coming 
to  earth  to  cast  consternation  among  men  by  superhuman 
valor  or  feats  of  strength,  doing  some  great  deed  and  then 
returning  to  heaven.  He  was  a  man  among  men,  in  all 
things,  made  like  unto  us. 

II.  I  come  to  speak  of  the  value  and  importance  of  this 
perfect  humanity  to  us. 

There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  argument  expended  to 
prove  the  Divinity  of  Christ.    I  think  it  abundantly  proven 


72 


by  the  narrative  of  His  life.  But,  though  we  do  not  take  so 
much  pains  to  certify  Christ's  humanity  to  us,  yet  I  think 
that  we  need  this  truth  more  than  the  other.  When  once 
we  have  granted  the  divine  nature,  then  it  is  absolutely  in- 
dispensable for  our  spiritual  hope  and  trust,  for  our  salvation, 
that  we  take  to  our  hearts  the  fact  that  a  perfect  man  has 
lived.  As  Mr.  Robertson  says,  "  if  there  has  been  on  this 
earth  no  real,  perfect  human  life,  no  love  that  never  cooled, 
no  faith  that  never  failed,  which  may  shine  as  a  lodestar 
across  the  darkness  of  our  experience,  a  light  amidst  all  con- 
victions of  our  own  meanness  and  all  suspicions  of  others' 
littleness, — why,  we  may  have  a  religion,  but  we  have  not  a 
Christianity.  For  if  we  lose  Him  as  a  Brother,  we  cannot 
feel  Him  as  a  Saviour." 

I.  We  need  Him  in  the  first  place,  to  know  the  possibility 
of  a  union  between  the  human  and  the  divine.  How  can 
we  have  a  sure  confidence  of  such  a  glorious  result  of  our 
lives  as  that  we  may  shed  the  weak  and  sinful  elements  of  the 
human,  and  put  on  the  holiness  and  perfection  of  the  divine, 
unless  we  may  see  one  like  unto  us  in  all  things,  and  yet  filled 
with  the  divine  spirit  without  measure.  We  know  what  we 
arc ;  erring,  sinning,  weak,  easily  brought  under  the  dominion 
of  evil  spirits,  influenced  at  times,  to  be  sure,  by  the  power 
of  goodness,  but  having  no  continuance  therein. 

Men  have  seemed  to  grasp  something  of  the  divine  nature  ; 
have  been  conscious  that  there  was  at  least  a  spark  of  divin- 
ity within,  but  studying  the  whole  history  of  the  race,  we 
should  never  arrive  at  the  certainty,  that  our  poor  humanity 
could  be  wholly  or  perpetually  joined  to  the  divine,  so  that  it 
be  altogether  in  harmony  with  it. 

But  the  Man  of  Mazareth,  the  Son  of  God,  born  of  woman, 
has  taken  this  same  poor,  weak  humanity,  that  has  seemed 
so  far  off  from  divinity,  and  has  baptized  it  into  the  divine. 
He  has  brought  the  material  wholly  into  subordination  to  the 
spiritual.  He  has  shown  us  that  there  can  be  completest  har- 
mony in  such  a  subordination  ;  that  only  thus  indeed  does  man 
come  into  his  normal  condition.  When  we  see  what  such  a 
union  brings,  what  power,  what  grace,  what  beauty,  what  joy 


73 


and  content,  what  elevation  and  dignity,  then  are  we  first 
convinced  that  we  have  found  what  our  nature  is  and  what 
the  true  design  and  end  of  our  humanity.  So  Christ's  hu- 
manity interprets  to  us  the  meaning  of  our  own  humanity. 

2.  It  also  interprets  to  us  divinity,  reveals  to  us  the 
Godhead. 

For  this  too,  it  was  necessary  that  there  should  be  a  per- 
fect and  complete  man,  who  could  grasp  deity  by  reason  of 
the  fullness  of  manhood.  Our  weak  and  sinful  natures  can- 
not comprehend  God.  Sin  puts  a  thick  mist  between  our 
Maker  and  the  spirit  within,  which  alone  could  apprehend 
spirit.  But  when  there  comes  a  sinless  one,  there  is  nothing 
to  intercept  the  clear  light  of  heaven,  and  his  soul  pierces 
into  all  the  mysteries  of  the  Divine  Nature.  And  because 
He  had  the  same  mind  and  heart  with  the  children  of  men, 
what  he  discovered  in  the  divine  regions,  he  could  declare 
unto  them  in  such  terms  that  they  might  apprehend. 

Just  as  to  translate  one  language  into  another,  it  is  neces- 
sary for  the  translator  to  understand  both,  so  was  it  neces- 
sary that  the  Godhead  itself  should,  put  on  humanity  that  he 
might  be  interpreted  and  understood  by  men. 

Or  we  may  find  the  necessity  better  illustrated  in  this  way. 
There  have  arisen  some  great  thinkers  like  Plato  among  the 
ancients  and  Spinoza  among  the  moderns,  who  failed  entirely 
of  being  understood  by  their  cotemporaries.  Their  thoughts 
have  been  too  profound  or  too  high  for  men  to  grasp.  But' 
after  a  time,  one  after  another  arises  who  is  capable  of  grasp- 
ing the  subtle  meaning  of  the  thinker,  and  is  at  the  same 
time  so  in  sympathy  with  the  popular  mind,  that  he  can  clearly 
interpret  to  its  comprehension  the  vastness  and  the  depth 
which  before  it  could  not  grasp.  So  actually  do  the 
thoughts  of  great  men  become  common  property.  There 
are  mediators  between  the  high  and  low,  in  the  kingdom  of 
thought. 

This  is  a  poor  analogy,  indeed,  of  the  manner  in  which 
Christ  is  a  mediator  between  God  and  man,  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  He  has  brought  down  high  things  to  the  level  of 
our  human  capacity.    He  has  nnfolded  that  which  was  in- 

lO 


74 


comprehensible  to  our  intellects,  so  that  our  hearts  and  souls 
now  grasp  it.  He  has  made  the  perfection  of  the  infinite  to 
stand  out  to  human  gaze.  He  has  enfolded  humanity  in  the 
arms  of  divinity  and  shed  upon  it  the  divine  light  and  made 
it  henceforth  to  look  up  and  see  the  wondrous  things  of  the 
heavenly  and  the  eternal. 

3.  Jesus  by  his  perfect  humanity  has  shown  us  the  capa- 
bilities which  lie  within  our  common  humanity;  latent  in- 
deed, but,  as  he  brought  it  into  contact  with  the  Divine 
Spirit,  coming  forth  into  wondrous  activity  and  glorious 
strength. 

Such  a  view  sheds  a  marvelous  light  upon  the  mighty 
works  of  Jesus  and  the  perfect  life  which  he  lived. 

For  we  must  always  bear  in  mind  that  it  was  not  as  God, 
but  as  the  divine  man,  that  our  Lord  performed  his  miracles, 
revealed  to  us  His  Father,  rose  from  the  dead,  and  ascended 
into  heaven. 

That  God  should  calm  the  tempest,  heal  diseases,  and  raise 
the  dead  to  life  is  nothing  wonderful,  and  has  the  meaning  to 
us  of  only  ordinary  Providence  ;  for  does  not  the  Almighty 
continually  work  through  his  laws  to  give  life  and  health,  and 
to  control  the  elements.  The  marvel  is  that  our  frail  human- 
ity could  become  so  gifted,  so  filled  with  divine  influences, 
as  to  come  to  possess  divine  authority  and  power.  The 
marvel  is,  that  our  humanity,  so  overborne  by  the  material, 
so  crushed  by  the  earthly,  should  once  have  risen  and  so 
completely  disenthralled  it  of  all  the  bonds  and  shackles  of 
the  flesh,  and  have  asserted  once  for  all,  that  even  in  the 
hitherto  slave,  there  was  resting  a  might  which  could  con- 
quer all  things  earthly  and  base.  In  Eastern  tales  is  told  the 
story  that  once  a  fisherman  found  a  little  sealed  vase  by  the 
seaside.  He  removed  the  seal  and  opened  it,  and  slowly 
there  rose  before  his  astonished  eyes  a  huge  mass  of  vapor, 
which  rose  to  a  great  height,  and  gradually  assumed  the  form  of 
a  gigantic  man.  The  good  genius  thanked  the  fisherman  for 
releasing  him  from  his  long  imprisonment  and  promised  to 
perform  for  him  whatever  he  should  ask,  however  wonderful. 
So  our  human  nature,  long  confined  and  cribbed  in  narrow 


75 


bounds  by  the  devil,  at  length  found  a  liberator,  and  was 
henceforth  able  to  achieve  what  had  been  impossibilities. 

For  we  are  certainly  taught,  by  the  completeness  of  the 
human  nature  of  Christ,  that  what  he  did,  is  an  index  of  the 
capabilities  which  lie  enwrapped  in  our  humanity. 

In  no  imputed  or  fictitious  sense,  was  his  perfect  obedi- 
ence our  obedience,  his  righteousness  our  righteousness,  for 
it  was  the  obedience  and  righteousness  of  our  weak,  tempted, 
hitherto  fallen  nature. 

Such  a  nature  as  we  have,  when  we  have  stripped  off  the 
corruptions  which  enslave  it,  and  will  not  let  its  powers  be 
used,  that  nature,  not  gigantic,  or  abnormal,  was  able  wholly 
to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  hence  to  assert  a  grand  superiority 
over  self  and  the  world. 

Once  it  has  been  free,  it  has  put  forth  its  unlimited  powers 
and  has  triumphed.  Therefore  it  may  again.  Do  I  mean  to 
say  that  men  may  again  arise  to  heal  the  sick,  control  the 
tempests,  raise  the  dead  to  life,  if  they  put  their  humanity 
under  the  same  conditions  that  it  was  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth 

Did  not  the  apostles  do  the  same  works  which  Christ  did, 
and  have  we  not  his  promise, — "  Greater  works  than  these 
shall  ye  do  ?  " 

And  therefore  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  as  conditions 
become  the  same  in  us  as  in  Jesus,  the  same  supremacy  over 
the  lower  nature  will  be  made  manifest.  The  conditions  are 
outward  as  well  as  inward,  to  be  sure,  and  the  outer  circum- 
stances may  not  allow  the  same  manifestations  of  the  power 
within  us  as  within  Him,  but  as  the  nature  within  us  is 
purged  from  its  grossness,  as  it  resumes  its  spiritual  vitality, 
as  it  takes  on  the  divine  proportions  which  Christ  has  showr^ 
belong  to  it,  there  shall  be  evident  the  same  unbounded  su- 
premacy of  the  spiritual  over  the  material  nature,  manifesting 
itself  however,  according  to  necessity  and  the  demands  of 
goodness. 

So  we  see  in  Christ's  calming  the  raging  sea,  not  alone  a 
mark  of  his  divinity,  not  simply  an  attestation  of  his  mission 
and  a  sign  of  the  truth  of  his  doctrine. 

It  is  a  fact  then,  whose  import  reaches  out  to  us  to-day,  tell- 


76 


ing  us  that  to  our  nature  will  come  the  same  grand  power  to 
control  viatcrial  nature,  if  we  will  stand  out  as  Jesus  did  in 
the  plenitude  of  the  spirit.  It  may  not  be  in  this  form  that 
it  shall  best  manifest  its  supremacy,  it  may  be  only  in  the 
conquest  of  natural  appetites  and  passions,  but  in  the  best 
way,  its  might  shall  be  shown  in  proportion  as  it  has  resumed 
its  true  purified  humanity.  It  was  not  Jesus  alone,  as  one 
that  conquered  death,  not  Jesus  as  the  embodied  God-head, 
that  rose  from  the  grave,  but  humanity  centered  in  that  per- 
son ;  humanity  so  long  entombed,  had  burst  from  the  dreary 
confines,  and  was  made  alive, — a  second  time  man  becoming 
a  living  soul.  Our  Nature  has  ascended  up  on  high,  has  be- 
come glorified,  has  taken  the  throne  at  the  right  hand  of  Him 
who  has  been  made  evermore '(9«r  FatJier,  because  Jesus,  the 
first  fruits,  is  our  Brother.  And  we,  if  we  be  buried  with 
Him,  (if  the  old  humanity  be  sloughed  off  with  its  corrup- 
tions,) shall  also  rise  with  Him.  We  shall  put  on  the  new, 
glorious,  spiritualized  humanity,  which  shall  have  all  suprem- 
acy over  the  whole  lower  nature. 

And  if  he  lives,  we  shall  live  also ;  we  that  have  our  hu- 
manity, as  his  was,  made  alive  through  the  Divine. 

Finally,  because  Christ's  humanity  was  our  humanity 
complete,  we  must  believe  that  he  stood  for  us  not  only  in 
the  original  mightiness  and  purity  of  our  natures,  but  in  its 
sufiering,  its  misery,  and  its  burdens.  This  truth  is  precious 
to  us  in  two  ways,  (a.)  He  has  shown  that  sorrowing,  heav- 
ily-laden humanity  may  have  a  refuge  where  it  shall  find  rest, 
and  that  our  nature  finding  peace  and  purity  amid  direct  suf- 
fering shall  rise  from  it  to  the  most  glorious  heights,  (b) 
His  suffering  humanity,  because  it  was  so  united  to  the 
divine,  has  forever  brought  us  into  closest  sympathy  with  the 
Infinite  Father.  Our  nature  may  be  as  one  with  Christ,  by 
this  union  with  Him  ;  we  are  made  one  with  God. 

So  on  the  wings  of  our  griefs  are  we  borne  up  into  the 
presence  of  the  Most  High.  Through  Jesus,  inasmuch  as 
he  has  been  made  perfect  through  suffering,  we  are  taken 
into  the  very  heart  of  God,  so  that  all  our  sighs  and  breath- 
ings of  pain  and  woe  come  up  into  His  remembrance.  Be- 


77 


cause  by  this  infinite-reaching  sympathy  of  our  Mediator  and 
Redeemer  our  religion  is  a  most  human  religion.  There  is 
nothing  of  true  humanity  but  may  touch  it,  no  gleam  of  it 
so  buried  in  sin,  but  that  Jesus'  love  may  reach  it.  Where- 
soever it  be,  howsoever  despised  that  which  conceals  it,  this 
sympathizing  humanity  of  Jesus  will  find  it,  will  rescue  it, 
will  put  on  it  new  robes,  will  give  it  back  its  lost  powers,  its 
lost  possessions,  its  lost  glory. 

This  humanity  of  His  identifies  itself  with  all,  the  lowest 
as  well  as  the  highest,  the  poorest,  and  the  most  fors-aken 
and  despised. 

"  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my 
brethren,  ye  did  it  unto  me." 

Such  a  comuwii  humanity  with  all  must  we  also  recognize, 
before  the  perfected  nature  which  the  Captain  of  our  Salva- 
tion has  wrought  out  for  us,  shall  become  wholly  ours,  and 
we  rejoice  in  its  completeness  and  in  its  glory. 


III. 

THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


[Preached,  Rockville,  June  2,  1878.] 


Matt,  vi,  9-14. — "After  this  manner  therefore  pray  ye  :  Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven,"  etc. 

In  returning  to  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  we  find  that  we 
have  come  to  the  Lord's  Prayer.  In  studying  it,  the  wonderful 
depth  and  breadth  of  meaning  in  it  have  caused  me  to  feel 
that  each  clause,  nay,  almost  every  word,  demanded  our  close 
and  reverent  consideration.  But  my  plan  necessitates  that 
our  attention  should  be  fixed  at  present  only  on  the  general 
outline,  the  form  and  method  of  the  prayer,  as  teaching  us 
how  to  pray. 

After  having  warned  his  disciples  against  ostentation  and 
tedious  repetition  in  prayer,  our  Lord  gave  them  this  as  a 
model  for  all  future  use.  We  always  call  this  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  but  it  would  more  properly  be  designated  the  Disci- 
ples' Prayer,  as  it  is  that  which  they  are  to  use.  Our  Lord's 
own  prayer  is  in  the  17th  of  John. 

Our  Lord  evidently  did  not  intend  to  confine  his  disciples 
to  the  very  form  and  words  of  this  prayer  as  a  perpetual 
liturgy.  "  After  this  manner  therefore  pray  ye."  All  our 
prayers,  like  this  prayer,  are  to  be  humble,  sincere,  reverent, 
concise,  and  simple.  But  though  this  prayer  is  plainly  not 
designed  to  limit  us  to  set,  prepared  forms,  yet  all  branches 
of  the  Christian  church,  Greek,  Catholic,  and  Protestant,  have 
agreed  in  their  employment  of  it  as  one  form  by  which  to 
approach  our  common  Father.  And  if  we  could  all  seize 
rightly  the  whole  meaning  of  it  as  we  repeat  it,  if  the  spirit  of 
it  could  enter  our  souls  and  abide  there,  then  might  we  see 


79 


eye  to  eye,  divisions  and  enmities  be  healed,  and  the  church 
be  one  in  Him  who  has  taught  us  how  to  pray, — if  we  would 
only  learn  !  It  is  said  that  while  many  different  beliefs  have 
wrangled  over  every  other  important  part  of  Scripture,  as  to 
this  prayer,  all  are  agreed  to  receive  it  as  the  completest 
model,  and  as  that  which  every  child  of  God  could  send  up 
to  heaven. 

Spiritually-minded  men,  and  all  of  keen  perception  of 
order  and  beauty  and  appropriateness,  must  agree  with 
Luther,  when  he  says  : — "  It  is  the  very  best  prayer  that 
ever  came  into  the  world,  or  was  ever  invented  by  man, 
because  God  the  Father  has  given  it  through  His  Son,  putting 
it  into  His  mouth  ;  we  cannot  doubt,  therefore,  that  of  all 
others  it  pleases  Him  best." 

We  run  over  this  prayer  very  often  ;  we  know  it  all,  we 
think;  whereas,  we  know  very  little  of  it.  When  we  medi- 
tate upon  it,  study  it,  strive  to  comprehend  it,  really  to  pray 
it,  then  we  begin  to  marvel  at  its  simplicity,  its  comprehen- 
siveness, its  far-reaching  meanings.  We  ordinarily  do  not 
pray  it,  when  we  repeat  it,  nor  enter  far  into  its  spirit  or 
matter.  Says  F.  D  Maurice  : — "  The  Pater  Noster  is  not,  as 
some  fancy,  the  easiest,  most  natural,  of  all  devout  utter- 
ances. It  may  be  committed  to  memory  quickly,  but  it  is 
slowly  learnt  by  heart.  Men  may  repeat  it  over  ten  times  in 
an  hour,  but  to  use  it  when  it  is  most  needed,  to  know  what 
it  means,  to  believe  it,  yea,  not  to  contradict  it  in  the  very 
act  of  praying  it,  not  to  construct  our  prayers  upon  a  model 
the  most  unlike  it  possible,  this  is  hard  ;  this  is  one  of  the 
highest  gifts  which  God  can  bestow  upon  us."  We  do  not 
find  out  what  there  is  in  it  until  we  are  raised  up  to  where  it 
is.  Until  we  have  had  breathed  into  us  quite  other  feelings 
from  what  we  naturally  have  toward  our  fellow-men,  we  can- 
not really  pray  the  very  first  word  of  it. 

Says  Mr.  Beecher :  "  I  used  to  think  the  Lord's  prayer  a 
short  prayer ;  but,  as  I  live  longer  and  see  more  of  life,  I 
begin  to  believe  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  through 
it.  If  a  man,  in  praying  it,  were  to  stop  at  every  word  until 
he  had  thoroughly  comprehended  and  prayed  it,  his  life-time 


8o 


would  be  consumed.  'Our  Father' — there  would  be  a  wall 
one  hundred  feet  high  in  just  these  two  words  to  most  men. 
'  Thy  will  be  done' — you  say  to  yotirself,  Oh,  I  can  pray  that ; 
and  all  the  time  your  mind  goes  round  and  round  in  immense 
circuits  and  far-off  distances  ;  but  God  is  continually  bringing 
the  circuits  nearer  to  you,  till  He  says.  How  is  it  about  your 
pride  and  your  temper  ?  How  is  it  about  your  business  and 
daily  life  ?  This  is  a  revolutionary  petition.  It  would  make 
many  a  man's  shop  and  store  tumble  to  the  ground  to  utter  it. 
Who  can  stand  at  the  avenue  along  which  all  his  pleasant 
thoughts  and  wishes  are  blossoming  like  flowers,  and  send 
those  terrible  words,  '  Thy  will  be  done,'  crashing  through  it  ? 
I  think  it  is  the  most  fearful  prayer  to  pray  in  the  world." 

Fearful,  I  would  say,  only  when  one  cannot  pray  it  all 
with  the  whole  heart  and  spirit ;  but  when  one  can  say  with 
all  sincerity  and  comprehension,  "  Our  Father"  then  can  he 
also  say  without  fear,  "  Thy  will  be  done!' 

One  reason  why  we  do  not  realize  the  power  and  scope  of 
this  prayer  is  because  of  its  commonness — our  familiarity 
with  it.  There  are  many  things  all  around  us  full  of  wonder 
and  mystery,  which  yet  are  empty  to  us  because  familiarity 
blinds  us.  We  are  like  the  New  Hampshire  farmer,  who 
thought  the  White  Mountains  looked  pretty  well,  but  he  could 
have  improved  them  by  making  them  a  little  more  peaked. 
And  so  the  sublimity  and  grandeur  of  the  Alps  are  lost  upon 
the  natives,  who  see  in  them  only  a  means  of  bringing  money 
to  them.  But  if  we  will  indeed  look  into  these  common, 
familiar  things,  we  shall  discover  that  the  finger  of  the 
Almighty  and  All-wise  has  been  there. 

And  so,  if  we  will  ponder  this  Lord's  Prayer,  reverently, 
and  with  true  inquiring  spirit  look  into  it,  we  shall  begin  to 
apprehend  the  sublimity  and  breadth  of  meaning  wrapped  up 
in  its  simple  words. 

Our  Lord  gave  us  this  prayer,  not  that  we  should  pray  no 
other,  but  to  teach  what  our  prayer  should  always  be.  ''After 
this  manner;"  and  therefore,  says  Mr.  Maurice,  "any  manner 
but  this  is  a  wrong  manner ;  a  prayer  which  has  any  other 
principle  or  method  than  this,  is  not  the  Soul's  Prayer,"  is 


8i 

not  a  right  kind  of  prayer.  Let  us  then  look  at  these  two 
things  :  the  method  and  principle  of  prayer,  as  taught  us 
here.    We  are  to  examine  the  form  and  the  contents. 

Note  some  of  the  qualities  which  inhere  in  it.  It  is  simple  ; 
can  you  imagine  a  prayer  more  so  Every  child  can  pray  it. 
It  is  comprehensive  and  far-reaching.  Can  you  name  any 
essetitial  thing  left  out  If  any  child  can  pray  it,  there  is 
also  all  here  which  all  men  need  to  pray.  The  wisest  may 
live  long  and  not  exhaust  it. 

It  is  direct — every  word  tells,  there  is  nothing  superfluous. 

It  has  every  element  of  sincerity  and  fervency  in  it.  If 
one  has  at  all  grasped  the  significance  of  its  words,  he  feels 
that  they  carry  him  direct  to  the  Almighty  and  take  with 
them  all  his  most  urgent  needs  and  his  highest  aspirations. 

It  has  been  said,  "  this  prayer  embodies  a  catholic  spirit, 
developed  in  Otcr  Father  ;  a  reverential  spirit,  in  Hallowed  be 
thy  name;  a  missionary  spirit,  in  Thy  kingdom  come;  an 
obedient  spirit,  in  Thy  will  by  done  ;  a  dependent  spirit,  in 
Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread  ;  a  penitent  and  forgiving 
spirit,  in  Forgive  as  we  forgive  ;  a  cautious  spirit,  in  Lead  us 
not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  the  evil  ;  an  adoring 
spirit,  in  its  sublime  ascription,  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  the 
power,  and  the  glory,  forever.  Amen." 

Now,  look  again  at  the  great  and  sublime  truths  recog- 
nized and  taught  by  this  simple  prayer,  truths  some  of  them, 
never  fully  acknowledged  before ;  for,  I  believe  you  may 
search  the  Old  Testament  through,  without  finding  the  Our 
Father  used  as  Jesus  has  taught  His  disciples  to  use  it. 

How  that  first  word,  Ottr,  demolishes  all  distinctions  of 
class,  race,  nation,  how  it  stamps  out  of  sight  our  prejudices, 
sectarianisms,  jealousies,  prides,  envyings,  hatreds  ;  how,  if 
all  could  but  go  so  far,  the  very  utterance  of  it  with  sincere 
heart  would  bring  us  all  into  a  common  and  universal 
Brotherhood,  hushing  all  strife  and  war  into  beautiful  har- 
monious unity. 

Our  Father  !    When  shall  the  world  be  able  to  say  that .'' 
The  second  word,  Father  ;  have  you  not  felt  how  much  more 
that  means,  than  God,  Creator,  Lord,  than  any  other  name 
1 1 


82 


by  which  we  know  the  Eternal !  When  we  pray,  we  are 
brought  by  this  name  right  into  the  very  presence  of  One, 
kind,  loving,  careful  of  His  creatures,  One  whom  we  can 
approach  confidently,  trustingly :  before  whom  we  may  bring 
all  our  heart's  desires,  sure  that  He  will  listen. 

Oh,  that  we  could  all  speak  to  Him,  believing  from  our 
very  hearts  that  He  is  oViX  Father !  How  it  would  heal  our  griefs, 
strengthen  our  souls,  and  bring  out  the  best  affections  of  our 
hearts. 

And  how  that  one  little  word — Father, — sweeps  away  all 
the  man-made  theories  concerning  this  universe,  its  creation, 
its  government  and  its  end  ;  "  Atheism,  which  says  there  is 
no  God  ;  and  Pantheism,  which  denies  His  Personality  ;  and 
Positivism,  which  at  best  ignores  His  existence  ;  and  Epicu- 
rianism,  which  teaches  that  God  has  no  care  for  his  creatures  ; 
and  Polytheism,  which  affirms  that  there  are  many  Gods." 

See,  how  one  little  word  of  divine  truth,  breathed  forth 
from  an  honest  heart,  dissipates  a  whole  gigantic  army  of 
errors,  and  drives  them  back  to  their  native  hell,  as  the  vapor 
steals  away  before  the  bright  sunlight. 

Let  us  pass  on. 

"  Who  art  in  Heaven" 

Art — not  wast  in  the  ages  when  creation  began,  and  re- 
moved from  the  reach  of  His  creatures,  as  some  of  the  advo- 
cates of  evolution  would  tell  us,  but  ever  existent,  ever  present 
where  He  can  be  spoken  to,  where  He  can  hear. 

Art,  not  is  to  come  at  the  end  of  the  world,  at  judgment, 
but  governing,  judging,  caring  for  us  all  now.  In  Heaven 
does  not  contradict  this.  If  for  a  moment  the  thought  of 
Heaven  as  His  dwelling-place  seems  to  send  Him  far  away 
into  unseen  regions,  then  instantly  comes  the  echo  of  that 
we  have  just  repeated.  Our  Father  to  re-assure  us.  And 
forthwith  these  two  truths  are  welded — Our  Father  is  in 
Heaven,  then  if  we  are  indeed  children  and  Heaven  is  our 
Father's  home,  it  is  our  home  too,  God  is  not  taken  from  us, 
but  we  are  lifted  upward  towards  His  eternal  habitation,  and 
have  the  vision  ever  before  us  of  an  everlasting,  abiding,  and 
resting  place  for  ourselves. 


83 


Immortality  !  at  home  with  our  Father  and  the  rest  of  His 
children  in  never-ending  blessedness !  This  is  the  next 
truth  which  bursts  upon  us. 

And  now  we  cannot  stop  to  examine  each  of  the  deep,  won- 
derful truths  which  would  become  evident  to  us,  if  we  were 
indeed  learning  the  Lord's  Prayer  for  the  first  time.  We  wili 
stop  for  two  or  three  only.  "  Thy  willho.  done,"  as  in  heaven 
so  in  earth.  See  Our  Father  here  active,  working  with  forces 
seen  and  unseen  to  bring  about  His  mighty  plans — see  all 
the  heavenly  hosts,  sun,  moon,  and  stars  moving  in  strict 
orderly  obedience  to  His  zuill ;  look  beyond  the  visible 
heavens,  and  behold  the  angelic  bands,  each  in  its  sphere 
with  all  their  energies  executing,  gladly,  with  praises  and 
hallelujahs,  the  same  will ;  so  let  it  be  on  earth,  so  should  we 
do,  so  shall  it  be  done  sometime,  because  Our  Lord  has 
taught  us  to  pray  for  it. 

As  we  pray,  let  us  strive  to  grasp  this  high,  far-reaching 
significance  of  the  words, — that  the  will  of  God  is  not  merely 
to  be  suffered,  endured,  but  to  be  done,  by  ourselves,  and  at 
length  by  all. 

"  Thy  kingdom  come," — what  a  panorama  opens  out  before 
us  at  these  words, — a  beautiful,  peaceful,  blessed  scene,  if  we 
would  pause  to  meditate  upon  it, — and  all  the  beauty  and 
blessedness  shall  come  to  be  realized,  here,  on  this  earth,  for 
Our  Lord  taught  us  to  pray  for  it.  His  kingdom  will  make 
tq  be  a  fact,  the  most  fervent  wishes,  the  most  eager  hopes 
that  mankind  have  ever  held. 

Passing  along,  hastily  as  we  must,  through  the  prayer,  yet 
meditating  upon  the  truths  which  beam  out  as  thickly  as  the 
stars  in  a  clear  moonless  night,  we  note  these  blazing  facts — 
that  we,  dependent  upon  God  every  day,  may  trust  Him 
daily  to  supply  our  wants,  that  we  are  to  ask  for  the  day,  not 
the  morrow,  casting  away  anxiety  on  account  of  that, — then 
that  our  sins  may  be  all  forgiven,  redemption  free,  purchased 
for  us  by  a  Redeemer,  but  contingent  upon  our  possessing  the 
Christly  forgiving  spirit  ourselves, — that  in  the  midst  of 
a  world  of  trial  and  temptation  we  may  have  restraining 
grace,  and  firm  deliverance  at  length  from  all  evil, — suffering 


84 


and  sin,  sorrow  and  wickedness,  from  death  and  hell.  All 
these  things  may  we  have,  because  (and  note  well  the  reason), 
the  kingdom  and  the  power  belong  unto  Our  Father,  and  He 
will  guide  us  and  direct  all  things,  to  bring  to  pass  what 
under  His  teaching  we  ask  for,  that  His  glory  may  fill  earth 
and  heaven. 

These  things  constitute  the  matter  of  the  prayer  ;  mark 
them  well,  meditate  upon  them,  for  these  are  the  objects, 
undoubtedly,  which  we  may  ask  for  always  with  assured  ex- 
pectation that  they  will  be  granted. 

But  we  must  not  stop  here,  if  we  would  learn  how  to  pray. 
We  must  know  not  only  the  matter,  but  the  form,  the  order 
of  our  praying.  Our  Lord  meant  to  teach  us,  no  doubt,  how 
to  order  our  petitions,  which  to  put  first,  and  which  last. 

"  After  this  maimer,  therefore,  pray  ye."  How  would  you 
naturally  begin  a  prayer What  petition  would  first  rush  to 
your  lips,  if  you  should  ask  for  what  you  most  desired 
Would  it  be  that  God's  name  might  be  hallowed,  that  His 
kingdom  might  come,  or  that  ycu  might  have  your  daily 
bread  or  your  sins  forgiven }  But,  as  Mr.  Maurice  says, 
"  the  principle  of  a  prayer  which  asks  first  for  bread  or  for- 
giveness, must  be  wholly  different  from  the  principle  of 
one  which  begins  with  '  Hallowed  be  thy  Name.'  The  con- 
ceptions of  prayer  which  you  would  derive  from  them  are 
unlike,  nay,  they  are  opposed." 

We  must  look  at  the  method,  as  well  as  the  matter  of 
our  praying,  if  we  would  learn  Christ's  lesson. 

That  our  prayer  may  be  heart-prayer,  that  we  may  come 
to  the  other  petition  in  the  right  spirit,  we  must  first  say 
"  Our  Father."  We  must  take  the  filial  relation,  get  within 
us  the  sense  of  dependence  and  then  of  trust  in  a  loving 
parent,  before  we  can  rightly  pray  for  our  daily  bread,  for 
forgiveness  of  sins. 

It  will  do  no  good  to  come  asking  for  these  things  until  we 
come  with  the  spirit  which  can  say,  Abba,  Father,  which 
loves  first  of  all  to  Hallow  His  Name,  and  desires  above  all 
that  His  Kingdom  shall  come,  and  that  His  Will  shall  be 
everywhere  done.  Did  not  Christ  mean  this,  by  putting 
these  first 


85 


The  profoundest  students  of  this  prayer  have  noted  this 
significance  in  the  order  of  the  petitions,  and  observed  a  pro- 
gress and  orderly  growth  from  the  beginning  to  the  end. 

We  ascend  up  to  God  on  the  wings  of  our  prayer,  and 
lose  ourselves  in  Him,  then  only  can  we  rightly  contemplate 
ourselves  and  our  own  wants.  There  are  tJiree  petitions  you 
notice  concerning  God  and  the  spiritual  realm.  Hallowed 
be  Thy  name,  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done. 

There  are  //^;r^  concerning  ourselves — daily  bread,  forgive- 
ness, spiritual  deliverance.  The  first  three  have  a  necessary 
order  ;  the  Hallowing  of  God's  Name  is  the  basis  upon  which 
His  Kingdom  must  be  established  ;  and  it  is  in  the  sphere  of 
this  Kingdom  alone  that  the  will  of  God  is  fulfilled.  You 
perceive  here  one  petition  grows  out  of  the  other  and  •  is 
connected  to  it  by  a  vital  stem.  In  like  manner  the  prayer 
for  the  maintenance  of  life  must  precede  the  prayer  for  the 
forgiveness  of  sins,  and  it  is  only  when  the  sins  of  the  past 
are  removed  that  we  can  go  forward  to  plead  for  deliverance 
from  thQ  temptations  and  evils  of  the  future.  Do  we  not  see 
that  this  order  is  necessary,  that  it  must  not  be  transgressed 
in  the  spirit  and  principle  of  our  prayers,  if  we  would  rightly 
pray  to  God's  acceptance.''  that  not  only  the  symmetry  of 
the  prayer,  its  right  proportion,  but  the  very  essence  of  the 
prayer  would  be  changed,  were  we  to  change  these  petitions 
in  their  order  of  sequence }  Let  me  quote  Mr.  Maurice 
again  :  "  Say  first.  Our  Father.  This  relation  is  fixed,  estab- 
lished, certain.  It  existed  in  Christ  before  all  worlds  ;  it  was 
manifested  when  he  came  in  the  flesh.  He  ascended  on 
high  that  we  may  claim  it.  Let  us  be  certain  that  we  ground 
all  our  thoughts  upon  these  opening  words  ;  till  we  know 
them  well  by  heart,  do  not  let  us  hasten  to  the  rest.  Let  us 
go  on  carefully,  step  by  step,  to  the  Name,  the  Kingdom, 
the  Will,  assuring  ourselves  of  our  footing,  confident  that 
we  are  in  a  region  of  clear,  unmixed  goodness  ;  of  goodness 
which  is  to  be  hallowed  by  us,  which  has  come  and  shall  come 
to  us  and  in  us,  which  is  to  be  done  on  earth,  not  merely  in 
heaven.  Then  we  are  in  a  condition  to  make  these  petitions 
for  our  daily  bread,  for  our  own  wants,  which  we  are  ordina- 


86 


rily  in  such  haste  to  utter,  and  which  He,  in  whom  all  wisdom 
dwells,  commands  us  to  defer.  Last  of  all  comes  this  :  De- 
liver us  from  evil." 

My  friends,  if  we  will  learn  by  the  study  of  this  model  of 
prayer,  in  what  manner,  with  what  spirit  we  should  appear 
before  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  if  we  should  come  to  realize  and  to 
feel  the  deep,  solemn  meaning,  the  wonderful  beauty  and  the 
far-reaching  grasp  of  this  prayer,  I  think  we  should  say  that 
we  never  have  yet  fully  prayed  these  few  short  petitions.  It 
is  a  great  thing  to  know  this  prayer.  Of  the  great  power  it 
has  to  move  the  universal  heart,  the  following  incident  is 
related  and  vouched  for  as  a  fact : 

A  gentleman  of  Baltimore  once  invited  the  elder  Booth, 
the  great  tragedian,  to  dine  with  him.  It  was  in  his  palmy 
days,  when  his  genius  and  his  powers  had  not  been  marred 
by  dissipation.  After  dinner,  the  old  gentleman  requested 
Booth  as  a  special  favor  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
before  the  assembled  company.  Slowly  and  reverently  he 
arose,  and  became  pale,  while  tears  came  to  his  upturned 
eyes.  The  silence  was  profound,  almost  painful ;  until  at 
last  the  spell  was  broken,  as  if  by  an  electric  shock,  as  his 
rich-toned  voice  from  white  lips,  syllabled  forth,  "  Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven,"  with  a  pathos  and  fervid  solemnity 
which  thrilled  all  hearts.  He  finished  ;  the  silence  continued, 
not  a  voice  was  heard  from  the  rapt  audience,  until  from  the 
corner  of  the  room  a  subdued  sob  broke  the  silence  ;  and  the 
old  gentleman  tottered  forward  with  streaming  eyes,  and,  seiz- 
ing Booth  by  the  hand,  in  tremulous  accents  exclaimed,  "  Sir, 
you  have  afforded  me  a  pleasure  for  which  my  whole  future  life 
will  be  grateful.  I  am  an  old  man  and  have  repeated  that 
prayer  every  day  since  my  boyhood,  but  I  never  heard  it 
before — never."  "  You  are  right,"  responded  Booth  ;  "  to 
read  that  prayer  as  it  should  be  read  has  cost  me  the  severest 
study  and  labor  for  forty  years  ;  and  I  am  far  from  being 
satisfied  with  my  rendering  of  that  wonderful  production. 
Hardly  one  in  ten  thousand  comprehends  how  much  beauty, 
tenderness,  and  grandeur  can  be  condensed  in  space  so  small 
and  in  words  so  simple.  That  prayer  of  itself  illustrates  the 
truth  of  the  Bible,  and  stamps  upon  it  the  seal  of  divinity." 


87 


Yes,  it  is  a  divine  prayer  ;  and  is  it  not  worth  our  most 
reverent  and  faithful  study,  that  we  may  learn  from  it  how  to 
pray  ?  that,  catching  the  spirit  of  it,  we  may  be  brought  into 
real  communion  with  Our  Father  and  live  in  His  Kingdom 
and  be  found  doing  His  will,  that  we  may  be  daily  kept  by 
His  upholding  hand  and  having  our  sins  forgiven,  we  may  at 
length  be  delivered  from  all  the  trials  and  evil  of  the  world. 
And,  imperfectly  as  it  is  comprehended,  to  how  many  millions 
has  this  prayer  brought  light  from  heaven  and  relief  to  the 
pent  up  and  burdened  soul?  It  has  been  offered  by  the 
young  and  old,  by  the  wise  and  the  ignorant,  by  those  in 
Christian  and  in  heathen  climes.  There  can  be  no  time,  no 
occasion  but  its  petitions  will  be  opportune.  From  the  dun- 
geon, from  the  palace,  from  the  abode  of  happiness  and  from 
the  home  of  misery,  by  the  well  and  happy,  by  the  sick  and 
dying,  have  its  petitions  been  wafted  up  to  heaven.  And  if 
said  in  the  spirit  with  which  our  Lord  meant  it,  if  there  be 
reverence  and  humility,  submission  and  truth,  in  the  heart, 
may  it  not  as  soon  reach  the  Father,  though  it  be  a  Catholic 
repeating  it  in  an  unknown  tongue,  or  the  ignorant  child  who 
can  only  say  it  after  another  ?  It  is  the  spirit  which  makes 
the  prayer  alive,  and  carries  it  up  to  God. 

You  remember  in  Dickens'  Bleak  House  the  pathetic  scene 
in  which  Joe  dies Joe  was  a  street  Arab,  utterly  untaught, 
but  faithful  to  his  friends  and  to  his  trust.  He  is  taken  ill  of 
the  small-pox,  and  is  kindly  cared  for  by  a  good  physician. 
As  he  is  dying  the  physician  stands  beside  him  trying  to  get 
a  little  spiritual  light  into  his  dark  soul.  "  The  dying  boy 
suddenly  says,  '  It's  turned  very  dark,  sir  !  Is  there  any  light 
a-comin'?'  'It  is  coming  fast,  Joe.  Joe,  my  poor  fellow.' 
'  I  hear  you,  sir,  in  the  dark ;  but  I'm  a-gropin',  a-gropin'  ; 
let  me  catch  hold  of  your  hand.'  'Joe,  can  you  say  what  I 
say  } '  '  I'll  say  anything  as  you  say,  sir,  for  I  know  it's  good.' 
'  Our  FatJicr^ — '  Our  Father  :  yes,  that  is  very  good,  sir.' 
'Which  art  in  heaven  J — 'Art  in  heaven.  Is  the  light  a-com- 
in', sir.?'    'It  is  close  at  hand.    Hallowed  be  thy  name ^ — 

'  Hallowed  be  thy  .'    The  light  is  come  upon  the 

dark,  benighted  way.    Dead  ! " 


88 


And  I  have  read  another  little  story  telling  how  this  prayer 
clings  to  the  mind  and  heart.  A  little  boy  was  picked  up 
one  day  in  the  streets  of  London,  his  legs  all  crushed  by  a 
heavy  wheel  having  passed  over  them.  He  was  taken  home  ; 
the  surgeon  did  what  he  could,  but  told  the  little  fellow  that 
he  must  die.  The  lad  had  been  to  one  of  the  mission  schools 
in  London,  had  there  learned  of  Jesus  and  His  salvation,  and 
this  prayer.  When  he  knew  that  he  must  quickly  die,  he 
turned  to  his  mother,  telling  her  not  to  cry,  for  he  was  going 
to  be  with  Jesus  soon, — that  was  all.  He  lay  very  quietly 
while  life  was  ebbing.  The  minister  came  to  pray  with  him, 
but  looking  at  him  thought  him  already  dead.  He  knelt  by 
the  bedside  to  pray  with  the  mother,  and  when  he  came  to 
the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  little  fellow. seemed  to  revive  and  with 
his  last  strength  joined  in  and  prayed  through  the  whole, 
and  then,  sinking  back  breathed  his  spirit  into  his  Father's 
hands. 

May  we  so  learn  this  prayer  that  in  dying  we  may  truly 
speak  to  Our  Father,  and  be  borne  up  to  heaven  with  our 
soul  made  fragrant  with  the  incense  of  its  spirit. 


IV. 


CHRIST'S  ESTIMATE  OF  THE 
WORTH  OF  A  MAN. 

[Preached,  Rockville,  Union  Service,  Nov.  i6,  1879.] 


Matt,  xii,  12. — How  mucli  then  is  a  man  better  than  a  sheep  ? 

There  appears  to  have  been  something  of  indignation  in 
the  tone  in  which  this  was  uttered. 

Jesus  was  going  to  cure  a  man  who  had  a  withered  hand, 
but  the  Pharisees  standing  around  were  finding  fault  with 
Him  because  it  was  the  Sabbath.  But  tJiey  would  labor  to 
save  a  sheep  from  injury  even  on  the  Sabbath  ;  and  is  not  a 
man  of  more  value  than  a  sheep,  exclaims  Jesus,  indignant  at 
their  hard-heartedness  and  narrowness. 

In  this  saying  we  find  a  hint  of  the  estimate  that  our  Lord 
had  of  the  worth  of  a  man.  And  starting  from  this  exclama- 
tion it  will  be  my  endeavor  to  show,  from  Christ's  words  and 
works  and  life,  Jiow  highly  He  valued  man  as  man. 

I.  It  was  a  time  when  not  much  account  was  made  of 
human  beings.  No  heathen  people  seemed  to  care  for  human 
rights  or  human  life,  and  the  Jews  were  more  intent  upon 
petty  laws  by  which  to  bind  the  soul  than  to  exalt  or  save 
man.  Xerxes  driving  his  millions  before  him  from  Asia  to 
Greece,  penning  them  up  to  number  them,  his  officers  lash- 
ing them  with  long  whips  to  compel  them  to  fight,  then 
leaving  their  bones  to  bleach  on  the  fields  of  Attica  or  Boeotia, 
fitly  represents  the  estimate  that  Oriental  monarchs  put 
upon  men. 

The  old  Egyptian  kings  seemed  to  make  no  account  of  man 
whatever,  except  as  a  beast  of  burden,  notwithstanding  their 
12 


90 

belief  in  immortality  and  the  pains  that  were  taken  to  make 
mummies  of  their  carcasses.  The  masses  were  compelled  to 
put  their  whole  lives  at  the  bidding  of  the  monarch, — to  drag 
the  huge  stones  and  pile  up  the  gigantic  masses  which  could 
serve  no  purpose  except  to  make  a  resting  place  for  the 
mummy  of  the  one  who  ruled  them.  The  individual  life  was 
nothing,  not  even  as  much  as  the  life  of  the  beast. 

And  even  in  civilized  Greece  and  Rome,  there  was  not 
much  more  value  placed  upon  humanity,  and  no  more  at  all, 
for  the  human  beings  outside  of  Greek  and  Roman  citizen- 
ship. Read  the  account  of  the  Gallic  wars  given  by  Caesar, 
the  most  enlightened  of  the  Romans  of  his  day,  noted  for 
his  clemency,  and  see  how  little  account  he  made  of  the 
worth  of  man.  To  say  nothing  of  the  huge  slaughter  and 
massacre  that  attended  his  campaigns  and  which  are  the 
accompaniment  of  all  wars,  the  sale  of  his  captives  as  slaves 
brought  in  an  immense  booty  to  himself  and  his  legions. 
And  to  be  a  Roman  slave  was  to  be  chained  down  to  work, 
day  by  day,  with  none  of  the  profits  nor  rights  nor  pleasures 
of  humanity.  Even  so  upright  a  Roman  as  Cato,  talks  of 
his  slaves  as  of  cattle,  advising,  in  his  book  upon  husbandry, 
that  they  should  be  kept  chained  to  work  until  they  began  to 
grow  feeble,  and  then  to  get  rid  of  them. 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  such  thing  as  pity  or  mercy 
towards  their  fellow  beings,  who  happened  by  chance  of  war  to 
be  their  slaves,  though  these  might  be  intelligent  and  virtu- 
ous, and  the  blood  of  princes  might  flow  in  their  veins. 

If  you  had  been  in  Rome  at  the  very  time  when  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  was  preaching  that  the  kingdom  of  God  had  come 
among  men,  you  might  have  seen  on  some  festival  day  the 
multitudes  of  Rome  pouring  into  the  huge  amphitheatre  to 
witness  men  fighting  with  beasts,  and  men  killing  each  other 
for  amusement.  The  noble  ladies  of  Rome  would  watch 
men  killing  one  another  with  delight,  and  turn  their  thumbs 
down  to  signify  that  they  desired  the  contest  should  close 
only  with  the  life.  They  did  not  seem  to  think  that  a  man 
was  any  better  than  a  sheep. 

Christ  was  to  teach  mankind  a  new  and  infinitely  better 


91 

lesson.  He,  for  the  first  time  in  the  world,  was  to  fully  show 
forth  the  worth  of  man. 

Every  miracle  that  Jesus  performed  proclaimed  the  fact 
that  a  man,  no  matter  how  degraded,  how  weak,  how  appar- 
rently  useless,  was  yet  in  the  sight  of  heaven  of  superlative 
value.  We  are  too  apt  to  look  at  Christ's  miracles  as  attest- 
ing His  Godhead,  and  His  power  as  divine.  Books  upon  the 
evidence  of  Christianity  make  much  account  of  the  miracles 
in  connection  with  the  divinity  of  Christ.  Certainly,  they  are 
very  important  in  this  direction,  they  do  attest  that  the  crea- 
tive energy,  the  life-giving  power  of  the  Godhead  dwelt  in 
Jesus. 

But  may  we  not  lay  stress  upon  the  miracles  as  evidencing 
that  Christ  saw  more  in  man  than  had  ever  been  seen 
before } 

It  seems  to  me  that  every  one  of  those  divine  works  teaches 
us  not  only  that  Jesus  had  come  forth  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  to  reveal  unto  men  the  Godhead,  but  also  to  reveal 
the  divine  view  of  what  man  is,  that  in  every  man  as  well  as 
in  Jesus  dwelt  some  portion  of  the  divine  nature. 

For,  remember,  his  miracles  were  performed  in  the  major- 
ity of  cases  upon  those  who  would  be  called  by  their  fellow- 
men  the  lowest  and  most  useless  specimens  of  humanity. 
One  is  a  paralytic,  seemingly  worthless  to  society,  a  poor, 
bed-ridden  wretch,  a  burden  to  his  friends  and  a  curse  to 
himself  ;  such  a  person  as  most  heathen  people,  and  even 
the  civilized  Romans,  would  have  considered  themselves  justi- 
fied in  getting  rid  of  by  any  means.  The  divine  eye  of  Jesus 
discerns  the  7nan  in  the  paralytic  or  the  leper,  and  stoops 
not  to  pity,  but  to  restore. 

One  day,  while  a  great  crowd  is  accompanying  Him,  He 
is  stopped  by  a  poor,  blind  beggar,  well  known  not  only  as  an 
object  of  pitj,  but  also  of  contempt.  His  disciples  feel  it  an 
imposition  upon  the  Master  for  such  a  miserable  object  to  hin- 
der this  triumphal  procession.  They  all  cry  out  to  the 
beggar  to  keep  still,  and  get  out  of  the  way. 

But  what  does  Jesus  do .''  They  must  all  stop  and  wait, 
while  with  infinite  sweetness  and  tenderness  He  first  con- 


92 


verses  with  this  poor  man  and  then  grants  all  that  he  asks. 
Infinite  greatness  and  power  wait  to  serve  the  blind  beggar. 
At  another  time,  He  is  approached  by  a  company  of  those 
most  loathsome  creatures,  dreaded  and  avoided  by  every  one 
in  the  East,  incurable,  exiles  from  home  and  all  human  soci- 
ety except  their  own,  maimed,  disfigured,  hideous-looking 
lepers.  Does  Jesus,  like  the  rest,  turn  away  from  them  with 
fear  and  disgust  ?  To  pity  them  would  be  a  great  deal,  to 
speak  with  them,  what  few  would  do.  But  Christ,  with  more 
than  pity,  talks  with  them,  as  if  the  blood  which  coursed 
through  their  veins  were  pure  and  healthy,  instead  of  poison 
and  corrupt  ;  as  if  their  countenances  were  fair  and  smooth, 
instead  of  eaten  and  roughened  by  sores.  He  heals  them, 
and  so  teaches  again  that  He  discerned  beneath  the  foulest 
exterior  the  inestimable  value  of  the  humanity  within. 
The  figure  has  been  used  before,  and  it  is  a  very  true  one, 
that  Jesus  was  like  the  merchant  who  seeks  amid  rags  and 
filth,  and  the  contagion  of  disease,  the  costliest  gems,  and 
pearls  of  greatest  price. 

That  Jesus  stooped  so  low,  that  he  showed  to  the  very 
meanest  so  much  of  divine  kindliness  and  helpfulness,  has 
often  been  adduced  as  indicating  the  largeness  of  His  pity, 
the  infinity  of  His  love,  and  certainly  we  cannot  help  but 
see  supreme  tenderness  and  affection  towards  man  in  these 
miracles.  But  pity,  after  all,  may  be  closely  akin  to  con- 
tempt ;  we  often  pity  those  whom  we  despise.  If  you  were 
in  Bombay,  one  of  the  sights  which  you  would  be  asked  to 
visit  would  be  the  hospital  for  animals.  There  you  would 
behold  one  of  the  most  grotesque  sights  in  the  world,  oxen, 
cows,  sheep,  hens,  ducks,  geese,  crows,  rats,  and  mice,  all  kinds 
of  animals,  wild  and  domestic, — with  broken  legs,  eyes  put 
out,  having  sores  and  deformities,  and  diseases  of  all  kinds, 
with  a  host  of  attendants  to  take  care  of  them,  and  physi- 
cians to  splinter  up  the  broken  limbs,  and  to  attend  upon  the 
diseased.  But  if  you  had  been  in  this  same  country  farther 
inland,  during  the  recent  famine,  you  might  have  seen  hu- 
man beings  starving  in  their  homes,  by  the  roadside,  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  passed  by  with  the  most  supreme  indif- 


93 


ference  by  their  fellow-countrymen,  and  only  cared  for  by 
the  Christian  Missionary,  and  by  those  whom  Christ's  reli- 
gion had  moved  to  compassion.  Does  not  this  show  that 
there  are  unnumbered  millions  now  who  do  not  think  that 
man  is  better  than  a  sheep. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  no  instance  is  recorded  of  Jesus 
performing  a  miracle  for  the  sake  of  any  dumb  beast.  The 
Apocryphal  Gospels  tell  of  Jesus,  when  a  little  boy,  making 
little  sparrows  out  of  clay,  and  then  by  clapping  his  hands, 
causing  them  to  come  to  life  and  fly  away.  But  we  feel  at 
once  how  utterly  alien  this  is  to  the  spirit  and  work  of  the 
real  Jesus.  He  speaks,  to  be  sure,  with  great  tenderness  of 
the  birds  and  of  the  flowers,  and  of  the  fact  that  not  a  spar- 
row falls  to  the  ground  without  our  Father's  notice, — but  you 
will  observe  that  He  says  'to  the  disciples  yojir  Father,  not 
their  Father.  There  is  no  divine  relationship  between  the 
others  of  God's  creatures  and  Himself,  as  there  is  between 
Him  and  man.  God's  care  is  over  all  His  works,  as  the 
Psalmist  tells  us,  but  it  is  for  man's  sake  only  that  Christ,  in 
His  divine  compassion,  performs  his  mighty  works  of  heal- 
ing, of  opening  blind  eyes  and  unstopping  deaf  ears.  Man 
alone,  then,  Christ  teaches  us,  is  worthy  of  this  great  love,  and 
of  this  tender  solicitude.  In  man,  alone,  of  all  the  creatures 
of  earth,  does  Christ  find  that  precious  value,  which  is  worth 
disinterring  from  the  mass  of  impurity  and  rubbish  in  which 
it  may  be  buried.  For  man  alone  was  that  infinite  pity 
which  had  no  tinge  of  contempt,  but  rather  an  affectionate 
yearning  for  the  recovery  of  fallen  greatness. 

II.  I  remark  in  the  second  place,  that  Christ's  words  con- 
cerning man  show  the  same  high  estimate  of  his  worth. 

If  He  was  not  the  first  to  speak  of  the  Fatherhood  of 
God,  and  of  the  universal  band  of  brotherhood  which  binds 
man  first  to  God,  and  therefore  man  to  man  ;  yet  He  alone 
speaks  of  that  relationship  as  the  basis  upon  which  He  esti- 
mated man,  and  upon  which  all  God's  acts  towards  us,  and 
ours  to  one  another,  should  be  performed. 

He  was  the  first  to  teach  us  to  recognize  the  divine  Father- 


94 


hood  in  the  care  of  all,  high  and  low,  the  meanest  as  well  as 
the  best.  What  a  striking  contrast  there  was  between  His 
words  in  this  respect  and  those  of  the  highest  pagans  of  that 
and  preceding  times.  A  few  of  the  powerful  and  noble, 
kings,  princes,  and  heroes  were  flattered  by  the  legends  that 
traced  their  lineage  back  to  the  gods.  Alexander  was  as- 
sured by  the  Egyptians  that  he  was  the  son  of  Jupiter 
Ammon.  Caesar  pretended  to  believe  that  his  ancestors 
sprang  from  Eneas,  whose  mother  was  a  goddess.  But  this 
honor  was  reserved  for  the  few.  There  was  a  sense  in  which 
Jupiter  was  called  father  of  gods  and  men,  but  anyone  who 
has  read  Greek  and  Roman  mythology,  knows  in  how  dif- 
ferent a  sense  that  term  was  used  from  that  in  which  Jesus 
speaks  of  our  God.  If  the  heathen  could  have  conceived  of 
one  God,  it  would  have  amazed  and  astounded  them  to  have 
had  Him  revealed  as  the  father  of  all,  Barbarian,  Greek, 
bond  and  free,  the  prosperous  and  the  miserable.  It  was 
Jesus  who  first  opened  up  to  mankind  this  grand  truth,  that 
every  poorest  and  most  miserable,  and  most  degraded  son  of 
man  might  trace  his  lineage  up  to  one  Almighty  God.  We 
are  all  children  of  God  as  well  as  sons  of  men  ;  Christ  was  the 
first  to  reveal  this  unto  men. 

All  His  words  concerning  man  were  in  agreement  with 
this  conception  of  man.  Even  the  vilest  sinner,  wandering 
far  off  from  God,  and  abjuring  by  his  vices  his  relationship 
to  Him,  is  in  Christ's  estimation  still  a  son,  a  prodigal  son, 
a  ruined  son,  a  lost  son,  but  still  a  child  whom  the  father 
will  acknowledge  and  receive,  and  to  whom  He  will  restore 
all  he  has  forfeited,  and  make  him  welcome  to  His  home  and 
to  all  His  possessions, — if  he  will  only  come  back. 

It  is  in  accordance  with  this  same  idea  that  Jesus  so  often 
says,  "  The  son  of  man  is  come  to  seek,  and  to  save  that 
•which  was  lost."  He  came  forth  from  the  Godhead,  from 
the  high  and  heavenly  places,  from  joys  unspeakable  and 
glories  inconceivable,  that  He  might  win  the  wanderers  back 
to  their  father's  house.  With  this  same  teaching  also  agrees 
what  He  says  and  what  His  apostles  say  of  His  incarnation. 
He,  being  God,  became  man.    In  this  short  statement  is  a 


95 


wonderful  revelation  of  the  estimation  which  our  divine  Lord 
placed  upon  man.  "  For  verily  He  took  not  on  Him  the 
nature  of  angels,  but  He  took  on  Him  the  seed  of  Abraham." 
And,  "  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  men  brethren." 

And  mind,  this  is  said  of  everyone,  the  vilest  as  well  as 
the  best.  Christ  sees  in  everyone  a  son  of  God,  a  brother  to 
Himself.  All  have  the  right  to  come  and  claim  this  rela- 
tionship, and  to  found  upon  it,  if  they  will,  a  voucher  to  a 
divine  inheritance.  This  teaching  of  Christ  is  the  secret  of 
His  compassion.  His  tenderness,  His  love.  His  making  com- 
panions of  publicans  and  sinners,  His  miraculous  works  of 
healing  and  helpfulness.  He  was  searching  everywhere  and 
always,  in  all  those  whom  He  met,  for  the  stamp  of  divinity 
which  He  knew  was  on  man's  soul,  and  which  at  the  same 
time  was  the  stamp  of  humanity  :  the  divinity  and  humanity 
in  the  same  man,  brought  together,  and  united  by  faith  ;  a 
beautiful  evidence  at  last  of  the  long  forgotten  relationship. 

This  truth,  too,  that  all  men  are  the  children  of  God  (and 
hence  their  great  worth)  accounts  for  the  pathetic  words 
which  Christ  often  uses  when  speaking  of  man  as  a  sinner. 
He  never  speaks  harshly  or  indignantly  of  the  lowest  sinner, 
only  of  those  who  laid  great  claim  to  righteousness,  but  were 
entirely  without  it.  There  is  no  harshness  for  the  poor 
shame-stricken  woman,  nor  cold  distance  towards  those 
whom  every  body  else  sneeringly  spoke  of  as  publicans  and 
sinners.  He  will  come  very  close  to  them.  He  will  speak 
very  kindly  to  them.  He  will  do  all  things  for  them.  He  calls 
them  unto  Himself.  Why  Because  in  every  one  He  sees 
a  child  of  God,  ruined,  lost,  but  of  vast  worth,  even  in  ruins. 

What  a  contrast  to  all  this  is  the  manner  in  which  the 
mass  of  men  were  spoken  of  by  the  ancient  Heathen  philoso- 
phers ;  in  which  they  are  spoken  of  by  scientific  infidels  and 
men  of  the  world  to-day.  Carlyle's  "  40,000,000  people  in 
England,  mostly  fools,"  well  expresses  the  extreme  contempt 
with  which  the  wise  men  of  to-day, — wise  in  their  own 
opinion, — speak  of  their  fellow-men. 

They  do  not  see  what  Jesus  saw  beneath  all  folly,  shallow- 
ness, and  sin  in  man,  the  image  of  God,  battered,  bruised,  the 


96 


best  lineaments  defaced,  yet  capable  of  being  restored,  reno- 
vated, and  made  to  appear  in  its  original  beauty  and  divine 
perfection.  For  "  He  knew  what  was  in  man,"  and  came  to 
bring  out  the  full  worth  of  what  he  saw  there. 

III.  But  Christ's  conception  of  man's  worth  is  seen  in  its 
fullness  only  when  we  come  to  look  at  the  purpose  for  which 
he  entered  into  humanity,  and  how  He  accomplished  that 
purpose.  We  see  by  all  the  words  and  acts  of  Jesus,  that 
there  was  absolutely  no  object  before  Him  as  a  life  work  but 
to  help  men  ;  to  reveal  unto  them  what  they  were,  and  to 
what  they  might  rise  as  children  of  the  Most  High.  But 
how  much  this  meant — to  help  men — could  not  be  known 
until  he  hung  on  the  cross — not  as  a  martyr,  not  as  a  victim  to 
His  faithfulness  in  His  mission  ;  Oh,  no,  more  than  this — as 
a  willing  sacrifice  for  man.  The  death  of  Christ  tells  much 
more  even  than  His  self-denying  life,  of  the  value  He  put 
upon  humanity.  To  toil  for  another,  to  devote  all  one's  days 
and  nights  to  him,  to  carry  him  upon  one's  heart  and  in  one's 
mind,  to  make  great  sacrifices  for  him  ;  all  this  shows  how 
much  that  one  is  prized,  how  highly  he  is  estimated. 

And  if  it  comes  to  the  last  great  test,  and  one  feels  that  he 
can  even  die  for  the  one  for  whom  he  has  labored  and  made 
such  sacrifices — what  higher  proof  can  be  given  of  the  extreme 
regard  he  had  for  the  beloved  object The  whole  purpose 
of  Jesus'  life,  as  I  have  said,  was  to  help  men,  the  supreme 
end  for  which  he  died  was  to  redeem  them.  For  this  end 
came  He  into  the  world,  for  this  end  He  endured  all  sorrow 
and  privation  and  suffering,  for  this  end  He  gave  Himself  to 
the  shameful  and  agonizing  death  of  the  cross.  All  this  for 
man,  all  this  for  you  and  me  ;  does  it  not  prove  that  Jesus  saw 
in  humanity  more  than  had  ever  been  discovered  before  ;  a 
worth  and  a  dignity  in  man  that  the  wisest  had  not  dreamed 
of. 

I  read,  once  in  a  while,  books  written  from  an  infidel  or  un- 
evangelical  stand-point,  in  which  our  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment is  attacked  as  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  man.  I  read 
such  arguments  with  something  of  indignation,  they  are  so 
palpably  wide  of  the  mark. 


97 


Why,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this  wide  world  that  shows 
man  as  the  object  of  such  consideration  on  the  part  of  God, 
nothing  that  so  exalts  him  to  a  lofty  position  in  the  universe, 
as  this  atonement  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, — the  Son  of  God 
shedding  His  blood  that  these  other  children  of  God  might 
find  and  come  to  their  inheritance. 

Are  we  worth  so  much  as  this  ?  What  one  of  us  should 
dare  say  that  we  were  unless  we  had  this  proof  of  it,  in  the 
greatness  of  the  ransom  ? 

When  Caesar,  or  some  other  great  man,  was  taken  prisoner 
by  the  pirates.  He  was  offended  because  they  demanded  so 
small  a  ransom  for  Him.  Know  you  not  that  you  have 
Caesar  with  you  he  indignantly  protested.  The  largeness 
of  the  ransom  paid  is  the  measure  of  the  worth  of  the  object 
ransomed.  We  are  bought  with  an  infinite  price.  Does  it  not 
show  that  Christ  esteemed  humanity  of  infinite  worth 
Could  man  himself  have  discovered  this,  could  the  wisest 
have  discerned  beneath  the  sin  and  folly  of  mankind  all  that 
the  divine  eye  of  Jesus  sought  out  and  revealed  to  us  As 
the  pearl-diver  plunges  beneath  the  dark  waters  of  the  ocean, 
and  finds  there  and  brings  up  to  the  light  the  priceless  pearl, 
so  Jesus,  coming  down  from  the  brightness  of  His  home, 
seeks  beneath  the  dark  and  turbid  waters  of  sin  the  costly 
jewel  which  He  alone  can  bring  up  from  the  depths  and 
make  known  to  the  universe,  in  its  true  worth. 

It  should  be  observed,  that  Christ  finds  this  value  of  * 
humanity,  solely  or  almost  solely  in  man's  moral  and  spiritual 
nature.  You  will  notice  that  while  He  estimates  man  more 
highly  than  anyone  else  has  ever  done.  He  yet  has  nothing 
to  say  about  what  is  usually  called  human  greatness.  The 
supremacy  over  their  fellows  which  men  are  accustomed  to 
seek  so  eagerly  and  prize  so  highly,  the  supremacy  gained  by 
wealth  or  power  or  intellectual  superiority,  He  scarce  ever 
speaks  of,  or  speaks  of  it  as  but  of  little  consequence.  The 
least  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  greater  than  such  a  mighty 
one,  in  the  estimation  of  Him  who  knew  what  was  in  man,  and 
saw  his  real  dignity.  To  be  humble,  to  depart  from  iniquity, 
to  walk  without  blame  before  man,  to  love  God  with  a  pure 
13 


98 


heart,  to  serve  one's  fellow-men  with  earnestness,  this  is  to 
find  one's  real  humanity,  to  discover  one's  real  worth  as  a 
man,  to  reach  the  true  greatness.  Without  this,  kings  and 
princes  and  intellectual  giants  have  found  but  little  of  the 
dignity  unto  which  they  might  rise  as  sons  of  God. 

In  view  of  the  inexpressible  worth  which  Jesus  has 
revealed  as  pertaining  to  our  manhood,  these  two  weighty 
practical  thoughts  come  to  us  in  conclusion. 

I.  That  it  is  a  great  and  grievous  sin  to  despise  any  one  of 
our  fellow-beings. 

The  estimate  of  Jesus  is  doubtless  the  true  estimate  of  the 
worth  of  our  manhood,  and  those  who  profess  to  be  His 
disciples  must  receive  and  act  upon  His  testimony  of  its 
value.  That  testimony  has  been  very  slowly  received,  even 
by  those  who  call  themselves  by  His  name.  But,  partially 
as  it  has  been  accepted,  yet  has  His  revelation  concerning 
the  sacredness  of  manhood  and  its  connection  with  the 
divine,  wrought  vast  changes  in  society.  It  has  well-nigh 
destroyed  slavery,  it  has  mitigated  the  cruelties  and  barbari- 
ties of  war,  it  put  an  end  to  gladiatorial  shows  and  slaughters, 
it  placed  the  stamp  of  reprobation  upon  infanticide,  it  ranked 
suicide  among  crimes,  it  has  exalted  and  blessed  woman,  it 
has  made  men  helpful  to  one  another  in  mi-sfortune  and  dis- 
ease, as  they  never  were  before.  All  these  blessings  are  the 
direct  result  of  the  high  estimate  which  Christ  put  upon  man. 
'  And  many  more  influences  have  come  from  this  same  concep- 
tion, to  make  the  relation  of  man  to  man  kindlier  and  more 
helpful,  and  to  make  all  our  social  relations  more  harmonious 
and  happy.  But  still  there  are  many  who  do  not  believe  that 
a  man  is  better  than  a  sheep.  If  the  conception  should  be 
received  and  acted  upon  by  all^  it  would  work  still  vaster  and 
more  blessed  changes.  If  all  saw  and  felt  the  worth  of  man- 
hood as  Jesus  has  taught  and  illustrated  it,  war  must  entirely 
cease,  oppression  would  be  no  more,  no  employer  would  look 
upon  those  he  employed  as  mere  machines,  cheating  and 
plundering  would  be  renounced,  no  one  would  venture  to  sell 
or  give  that  to  his  brother  man  which  would  degrade  this 
sacred  manhood,  no  one  would  dare  to  destroy  his  brother. 


99 


there  would  be  nothing  in  this  world  which  anyone  would  put 
above  manhood. 

2.  The  other  practical  thought  is  this:  If  every  human  soul 
is  thought  to  be  so  precious  by  its  Maker,  what  terrible 
guilt  is  there  in  ruining  and  losing  one's  self !  To  throw 
one's  self  away  in  spite  of  all  that  has  been  done  to  save  man, 
to  cast  one's  self  down  from  the  height  of  that  humanity, 
which  the  Creator  Himself  tells  us  bears  the  stamp  of  the 
Divine  Image,  to  forfeit  all  the  nobleness  and  honor  which 
might  pertain  to  that  manhood — could  the  universe  furnish 
another  such  instance  of  madness  and  folly  ?  The  precious- 
ness  of  this  humanity  is  certainly  the  gauge  of  the  greatness 
of  the  sin  in  wasting  and  ruining  all  its  value.  There  used  to 
be  in  the  British  Museum  a  very  costly  vase,  called  the 
Portland  Vase,  probably  the  choicest  in  the  world.  It  was 
protected  with  the  greatest  care.  But  one  day  a  well-dressed 
man  raised  a  cane  and  shattered  it  into  fragments.  The  man 
was  arrested,  but  it  was  soon  shown  that  he  was  insane. 
Only  a  freak  of  madness  could  do  so  great  and  causeless  a 
mischief.  None  but  a  madman,  people  exclaimed,  could  ruin 
so  beautiful  and  so  precious  an  article.  And  what  shall  we 
say  then  of  the  many  who  as  wantonly  break  into  fragments 
the  Image  of  God  given  them  to  keep,  and  spoil  for  eternity 
this  most  precious  thing  on  earth,  one's  own  manhood. 

Many  of  us  will  not  believe  in  Jesus'  estimate  of  our  worth  ; 
we  decry  ourselves,  cheapen  our  manhood,  and  say  by  our 
actions  we  are  of  no  great  worth.  But,  I  believe,  one  of  our 
most  agonizing  thoughts  hereafter,  if  we  do  throw  ourselves 
away,  will  be  the  conviction,  forced  upon  us  by  the  sight  of 
what  we  have  lost,  that,  after  all,  Jesus  Christ  was  right  in 
His  estimate  of  the  value  of  one  human  soul,  and  we  were 
wrong.  And  then  to  think  that  all  this  precious  humanity, 
which  might  have  been  joined  to  divinity  for  ever,  which  cost 
God  so  much — is  lost,  lost  beyond  recall ! 

Robert  Hall  has  these  thrilling  words  upon  a  lost  soul, 
with  which  let  me  close. 

"  What,"  he  says,  "  if  it  be  lawful  to  indulge  such  a 
thought — what  would  be  the  funeral  obsequies  of  a  lost  soul 


lOO 


Where  shall  we  find  the  tears  fit  to  be  wept  at  such  a  specta- 
cle ?  or  could  we  realize  the  calamity  in  all  its  extent,  what 
token  of  commiseration  and  concern  would  be  deemed  equal 
to  the  occasion  ?  Would  it  suffice  for  the  sun  to  veil  his 
light,  and  the  moon  her  brightness  ?  to  cover  the  ocean  with 
mourning,  and  the  heaven  with  sack-cloth  ?  Or,  were  the 
whole  fabric  of  nature  to  become  animated  and  vocal, 
would  it  be  possible  for  her  to  utter  a  groan  too  deep  or  a  cry- 
too  piercing  to  express  the  magnitude  and  extent  of  such  a 
catastrophe  ? " 


V. 

SINGLE-MINDEDNESS  IN  RELIGION. 

[Preached,  Rockville,  January  i8,  1880.] 


Philippians,  3:  13. — "But  this  one  thing  I  do." 

If  you  will  look  at  the  text,  you  will  see  that  of  these  six 
words  which  I  have  chosen  to  speak  from,  three  are  in  italics, 
that  is,  are  not  represented  in  the  original.  The  omission  of 
these  in  the  translation-would  make  Paul's  meaning  still  more 
vivid  than  it  is  here. 

But  one  thhig, — to  gain  the  consummated  fruit  of  his  Chris- 
tian course  ; — Btii  one  thing, — to  press  on  in  the  way  of  the 
Lord  and  victory  ; — But  one  thing, — to  attain  unto  the  res- 
urrection and  seize  Christ  wholly.  Do  not  these  three  words 
well  express  the  meaning  of  Paul's  life 

But  one  thing ; — is  not  that  just  what  we  should  expect  the 
great  apostle  to  exclaim,  if  he  were  going  to  utter  the  intent 
of  his  mind,  the  love  of  his  heart,  the  ardor  of  his  soul,  the 
aim  of  his  existence.  What  earnestness,  what  intensity, 
what  ardent  expectation  and  hope  are  in  the  words ! 

One  thing  ever  before  him ; — that  was  the  way  in  which 
he  lived  his  life,  wrought  his  work,  achieved  his  end.  Let  us 
try  to  read  something  of  his  lesson  into  our  own  lives. 

Singleness  of  aim,  earnestness  of  purpose,  intensity  of 
effort — and  all  for  Christ ;  that  is  what  we  read  in  these 
three  words. 

Is  it  not  a  lesson  needed  in  this  distracted,  careless,  mate- 
rialistic age,  confused  and  perplexed  like  Pilate  as  to  "  what 
is  truth,"  asking  sometimes  with  reckless  despair,  sometimes 
with  sad  eagerness, — "  Who  will  show  us  any  good 

To  be  sure,  we  boast  of  the  unexampled  energy  of  this 


102 


nineteenth  century,  of  its  vast  achievements,  of  the  still 
vaster  hopes  vi^hich  it  has  engendered,  of  its  progress  towards 
universal  enlightenment  and  happiness.  We  think  if  ever 
there  was  a  time  when  men  showed  indomitable  persever- 
ance, inflexible  determination  to  achieve  their  ends  it  is 
now. 

Certainly  there  is  persistence,  single-mindedness,  intensity 
of  purpose  everywhere  apparent.  But  one  thing  is  a  motto 
with  many  men  to-day,  and  it  brings  the  reward  of  success 
where  it  is  found. 

This,  one  might  almost  say,  is  what  has  formed  our  nine- 
teenth century  civilization.  It  is  an  intense  civilization, 
formed  by  intensely  active  forces,  so  different  in  this  from 
the  old  civilization.  Scientific  men,  literary  men,  practical 
inventors,  ambitious  statesmen  and  politicians,  manufacturers 
and  merchants  concentrate  their  energies  on  one  thing-  and 
achieve  success — and  their  successes  have  made  this  an  al- 
most supernaturally  busy  age  of  railroads,  and  telegraphs, 
and  machinery.  Yes,  the  modern  worker  seems  to  well  under- 
stand the  necessity  of  concentration  of  purpose  and  energy 
upon  one  thing  in  order  to  achieve  success. 

We  have  all  learned  the  lesson  in  matters  of  this  world, 
that  the  dissipation  of  one's  energies  upon  a  number  of  ob- 
jects prevents  the  attaining  of  any  one  of  them.  We  tell 
our  children  that  if  they  would  make  their  way  in  the  world 
and  succeed  in  their  vocation,  whatever  it  may  be,  they  must 
give  their  whole  mind  to  it ;  they  must  meet  difficulty  with  a 
determination  to  overcome  it  ;  they  must  not  be  set  back  by 
apparent  failures. 

And  this  has  been  the  history  of  all  success  in  all  times. 
When  genius  has  found  its  way  to  the  high  places  of  the 
world  onee,  persistent,  untiring,  determined  mediocrity  has 
risen  there  a  score  of  times.  Looking  at  one  thing,  think- 
ing and  studying  one  thing,  working  for  one  thing, — this 
makes  the  Astors  and  Vanderbilts,  the  Cassars  and  Napole- 
ons.   It  makes  an  Agassiz  and  a  Darwin. 

True,  there  was  native  talent  in  all  these,  in  some  cases 
genius,  but  with  that  it  was  concentration  of  plan  and  energy 
in  one  direction  through  life  that  gained  them  their  end. 


I03 

John  Foster,  in  his  essay  upon  Decision  of  Character, 
mentions  the  case  of  a  young  man,  illustrating  how  much  an 
unconquerable  purpose  can  achieve  in  the  pursuit  of  one 
object.  The  youth  had  inherited  and  run  through  a  very 
large  property  in  two  or  three  years.  Forsaken  by  the  com- 
panions who  had  helped  him  to  squander  it,  and  utterly  in 
despair,  he  went  out  with  the  determination  to  take  his  own 
life.  But  looking  over  the  beautiful  estate  which  he  had  lost, 
the  resolution  seized  him  to  win  it  back.  He  formed  his 
plan,  and  immediately  began  to  execute  it.  He  offered  him- 
self to  perform  the  first  task  that  met  him,  which  was  shov- 
eling a  pile  of  coal  into  place.  He  received  his  pay,  and 
asked  for  some  cold  meat  and  bread,  that  he  might  save  his 
money.  So  he  went  on,  doing  whatever  he  could  find  to  do, 
spending  no  penny  that  he  could  save,  until  he  acquired  some 
capital,  then  went  into  the  cattle  business,  indomitably  fol- 
lowing the  same  plan  of  saving  all  and  spending  none,  until 
at  length  he  died  worth  p^6o,ooo.  I  do  not  doubt  that, 
granting  health  and  strength,  almost  any  one  through  the 
same  unconquerable  purpose  and  persistence,  might  attain 
the  same  result  with  this  young  man.  I  should  hope  that 
no  one  would  find  it  worth  the  while. 

But  the  example  shows  (and  vast  numbers  of  others  might 
be  adduced  very  similar,)  how  large  a  part  this  one  quality  of 
persistence  in  one  thing  has  upon  the  issues  of  our  lives  in 
worldly  matters.  The  world  at  large,  as  I  have  said,  recog- 
nize this. 

But  how  is  it  in  our  religious  life,  and  religious  work  ?  Is 
it  not  true  here  as  in  so  many  other  things,  that  the  children 
of  this  world  are  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children 
of  light.' 

All  the  world,  we  may  say,  is  pressing  on  with  earnestness 
and  vigor,  to  fuller  and  completer  possession  of  the  things 
which  make  for  its  life  ;  for  riches,  for  pleasure,  for  honor, 
for  power.  Science  and  invention,  knowledge  and  literature, 
art  and  merchandise,  all  are  made  subservient  to  what  is 
called  the  world's  progress.  Men  are  intent,  as  they  never 
were  before,  to  conquer  every  one  of  nature's  forces  and 


104 


bind  them  to  their  bidding,  that  they  may  move  more  rapidly, 
work  more  efficiently  to  provide  for  themselves  comfort,  lux- 
ury, ease,  enjoyment.  That  is  what  our  nineteenth  century 
civilization  means  very  largely,  more  than  it  means  increase 
of  virtue,  wisdom,  emancipation  from  error,  from  vice,  from 
sin  and  misery. 

True,  the  eager  striving  for  the  former  brings  along  with 
it  some  advance  to  the  better  part  of  life,  but  the  07ie  thiftg 
which  the  average  nineteenth  century  man  or  woman  has  in 
view,  as  the  aim  of  life,  is  certainly  not  moral  purity  and  spir- 
itual perfection. 

There  are  those,  indeed,  who  are  in  earnest  for  the  soul 
life,  and  make  it  the  one  supreme  thing,  to  save  them- 
selves and  others  from  sin,  but  the  larger  part,  even  of 
those  who  profess  to  be  disciples  of  Christ,  seem  to  make 
their  07te  tJnng  quite  different.  Am  I  making  too  harsh 
a  charge  I  know  not  the  heart  of  men,  but  judging  from 
the  exertions  made,  the  energy  displayed,  the  enthusiasm 
manifest,  and  also  from  the  fruits  brought  forth,  am  I  not 
sufficiently  cautious  when  I  affirm  that  professedly  Christian 
people  greatly  lack  to-day  in  moral  earnestness,  in  spiritual 
single-mindedness,  in  devotion  and  loyalty  to  Christ.''  Is 
not  this  evident  in  the  looseness  with  which  men's  beliefs 
cling  to  them,  in  the  lack  of  zeal  for  the  pushing  forward  of 
Christ's  kingdom,  in  the  vast  difference  in  ardor  and  earn- 
estness which  Christians  manifest  in  pursuing  material  and 
spiritual  good,  in  the  lightness  with  which  so  many  hold  their 
Christian  principles  } 

With  all  that  we  may  say  in  favor  of  the  church  of  to-day, 
in  comparison  with  that  of  previous  generations,  its  increas- 
ing liberality,  tolerance,  largeness  of  charity,  I  fear  we  must 
admit  that  on  the  whole  it  has  lost  in  earnestness  and  single- 
mindedness. 

While  the  intellectual  nature  of  man  has  been  greatly 
awakened,  and  his  desire  for  progress  is  almost  of  feverish 
intensity,  it  seems  to  me  that  his  spiiitual  faculties,  beset 
with  doubts  and  speculations,  overborne  by  the  material  ten- 
dencies of  our  civilization,  are  in  danger  of  becoming  lethar- 


105 


gic.  But  I  do  not  mean  to  portray  at  length  the  dangers  to 
the  church,  but  by  these  one  or  two  glimpses  at  what  I  think 
are  our  peculiar  perils  as  Christians,  I  would  lay  the  basis 
for  an  appeal  for  more  single-mindedness  and  devotion  in 
our  Christian  life. 

So,  to  turn  now  from  a  consideration  of  the  general  condi- 
tion of  the  Christian  mind  as  evidenced  in  the  faith  and  works 
of  the  church  to  day,  if  we  should  inquire  of  our  own  hearts, 
brethren  and  friends,  must  we  not  confess  that  the  one  thing 
that  presses  upon  us  most  is  not  that  one  thing  of  which 
Paul  speaks  ? 

But  if  we  recognize,  as  we  do,  the  necessity  of  devotedness 
to  whatever  business  or  profession  we  may  pursue,  in  order 
to  success,  why  do  we  not  recognize  the  same  fact  in  our 
religious  life  ?  If  we  are  true  disciples  of  the  Lord,  we  do 
wish  to  succeed  in  living  blameless  lives,  in  making  spiritual 
progress,  in  helping  on  our  great  Master's  Kingdom.  I  know 
that  many  lament  that  they  are  no  better  Christians,  and 
because  their  lives  seem  to  amount  to  no  more  for  Christ. 

The  prayers  and  remarks  in  our  social  meetings  give  evi- 
dence of  the  same  state  of  feeling  ;  a  bewailing  of  spiritual 
coldness,  of  inactivity  and  listlessness,  often  making  up  a 
large  part  of  the  exercises.  I  suppose  that  a  company  of 
business  men  would  be  ashamed  to  meet  together  once  a 
week,  year  after  year,  to  discourse  upon  their  want  of  interest 
in  their  work  and  its  results  ;  a  circle  of  mothers  would  be 
equally  so,  at  the  idea  of  meeting  to  grieve  over  their  cold- 
ness towards  their  families. 

Why  must  we  bewail,  year  after  year,  our  lack  of  interest 
in  the  great  family  of  Christ,  to  which  we  belong,  and  our 
carelessness  concerning  its  prosperity,  and  our  own  stagnant 
spiritual  lives  }  Christians  often  speak  and  I  suppose  think 
of  their  apathetic  condition  as  of  a  state  which  they  cannot 
help.  They  would  if  they  could,  but  really  cannot  live  any 
holier,  more  zealous,  more  active  lives.  They  are  waiting  for 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  revive  them.  The  blame  of  their  inactivity, 
of  their  poor  Christian  living,  then,  lies  on  the  Spirit  of  God. 
They  would  shudder  to  say  this  in  just  so  many  words,  but, 
14 


io6 

brethren,  is  not  this  about  what  we  mean  when  we  say  in 
excuse  for  our  want  of  zeal  and  activity  for  Christ,  we  can  do 
nothing  without  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  We  can  abuse  the  most 
important  and  solemn  truth  to  our  damnation,  while  pro- 
fessing to  believe  in  it. 

If  we  would  be  honest  with  ourselves,  and  give  the  true 
reason  for  our  failures  in  Christian  living  and  work,  would  it 
not  be  that  we  had  deliberately  put  something  else  before 
Christ  and  His  church  ?  More  or  less  consciously,  we  give 
the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His  Righteousness  a  subordinate 
place  in  our  souls.  I  would  not  charge  this  upon  any  pro- 
fessed Christian,  but  would  ask  every  one  to  consider  whether 
all  his  stumbling,  his  difificulties,  his  gloom,  his  apathy,  all 
his  spiritual  failures,  are  not  traceable  to  this, — that  he  for- 
gets his  original  vows  of  a  whole-hearted  devotion  to  Christ 
and  His  service. 

And  have  we  any  right  to  the  name  of  Christians  if  some- 
thing else  than  Christ  and  the  prize  of  His  high  calling  be 
the  one  thing  of  our  lives  See,  now,  what  perils  immedi- 
ately spring  from  our  forgetting  this  fundamental  condition 
of  our  Christian  citizenship  ! 

I.  And  first:  If  our  religion  be  a  secondary  matter,  sub- 
ordinate to  some  other  interest,  faith  and  hope  will  be  all 
mystical  terms  to  us,  of  which  we  know  practically  little. 
Christian  service  will  be  hard,  acts  of  devotion  distasteful, 
religion  as  a  whole  a  bitter  experience  which  is  a  stern  neces- 
sity to  avoid  going  to  hell,  instead  of  the  free,  glad  exercise 
of  our  spiritual  faculties,  lifting  us  all  the  time  heavenward 
of  itself. 

Christ  has  told  us  that  His  yoke  is  easy  and  His  burden 
light,  and  all  find  it  so  who  make  it  the  chief  thing  of  their 
lives  ,with  willing  hearts  to  take  His  service  upon  them  But 
if  religion  be  not  taken  up  with  the  heart,  it  is  a  great  bond- 
age, a  round  of  disagreeable  duties  and  exercises  paid  to  pur- 
chase an  insurance  policy  for  heaven.  Dr.  Finney  says  in 
his  pithy  way,  "  Let  us  ask  those  who  groan  under  the  idea 
that  they  must  be  religious,  who  deem  it  awfully  hard — but 
they  must — how  much  religion  of  this  kind  will  it  take  to 


I07 


make  hell?  Surely  not  much."  There  are  a  great  many- 
professed  Christians,  I  fear,  whose  rehgion  only  serves  to 
make  them  terribly  uncomfortable.  They  want  to  do  this 
and  tJiat  which  other  people  do  ;  to  go  to  this  or  that  place 
of  dissipated  pleasure  which  others  frequent  ;  and  yet,  they 
feel  that  their  profession  doesn't  quite  allow  it,  and  so  they 
are  pulled  this  way  by  their  inclinations  and  that  way  by  their 
profession,  and  make  out,  on  the  whole,  a  very  miserable  time 
of  it.  They  haven't  got  where  Paul's  one  thing  is  uppermost, 
paramount  all  the  time  in  their  minds,  and  they  will  not  have 
any  peace  in  their  religion  until  they  get  upon  Paul's  ground 
in  this  respect. 

2.  Then  again,  one  who  does  not  conscientiously  and 
heartily  put  Christ  first  in  all  the  afitairs  of  life,  makes  his 
religion  a  very  unreal,  hollow,  empty  thing.  To  make  religion 
secondary  in  our  estimation  is,  of  course,  to  make  it  of  less 
consequence  than  something  else ;  and  when  we  get  to  think 
of  anything — business,  enjoyment,  honor,  ease — as  of  more 
consequence  than  righteousness  and  the  service  of  Christ, 
we  are  close  to  hypocrisy,  if  not  already  actual  hypocrites. 
I  think  if  you  should  trace  the  inner  life  of  those  men  who 
have  borne  an  irreproachable  name  hitherto,  but  have  sud- 
denly turned  out  forgers,  defaulters,  adulterers,  or  murderers, 
you  would  find  that  the  one  thing  of  their  heart  about  which 
they  had  been  earnest,  single-minded,  and  persistent,  had 
never  been  Christ  and  His  work.  One  does  not  choose  Baal 
after  he  has  had  living,  experimental  testimony  in  his  own 
heart  of  the  glory,  the  greatness,  the  mercy,  and  goodness  of 
Jehovah. 

But  what  wickedness  may  a  man  not  be  guilty  of,  if  all  the 
time  he  has  been  pretending  to  serve  Jehovah,  he  has  really 
been  in  league  with  the  Baal  worship.  This  by  some  is  called 
the  age  of  sham,  and  the  worst  of  its  shams  is  a  veneered 
religion  ;  that  kind  of  religion  which  attends  balls  and 
theatres  and  wine-parties,  and  has  its  heart  set  on  these  for 
three  hundred  and  twenty-five  days,  and  then  seeks  to  make 
it  all  right  with  Jehovah  by  keeping  forty  days  Lent  as  its 
equivalent. 


io8 

Every  honest  man  will  say,  away  with  such  cant  and 
affectation  of  religion  ;  be  one  thing  or  another  ;  don't  think 
you  can  deceive  anybody  but  yourself,  by  thus  hankering 
after  what  your  religion  condemns,  and  then  trying  to  com- 
promise with  your  Maker  by  going  through  the  form  of  serv- 
ing Him.  Such  a  course  as  that,  such  double-mindedness, 
has  made  scoundrels  ever  since  Cain  killed  Abel  after  paying 
his  worship  to  God. 

Every  reader  of  the  Gospels  knows  what  pains  Jesus  takes 
in  His  teaching  to  make  it  plain  that  He  demands  the  first 
place  in  the  hearts  of  His  disciples,  single-mindedness  in  de- 
votion to  Him,  earnestness  in  His  service,  fixedness  of  pur- 
pose ever  to  be  true  and  loyal  to  Him.  "  If  any  man  cometh 
to  me  and  hateth  not  his  father  and  mother  and  wife  and 
children  and  brothers  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also, 
he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  "Whosoever  he  be  of  you  that 
forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  be  cannot  be  my  disciple." 
Could  the  requirements  be  put  in  stronger  language Could 
anything  show  more  forcibly  that  Christ  will  not,  cannot, 
have  any  other  object  placed  above  His  claims  ? 

And  he  demands  that  we  shall  persist  in  this  devotion. 
"iNoman  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  looking 
back,  is  Jit  for  the  kingdom  of  God."  Otie  thifig  supreme  in 
the  heart,  loyalty  to  one  master,  one  great  aim  of  life,  above 
all  others,  earnestness,  devotedness,  persistence  in  one  para- 
mount purpose,  such  is  the  condition  of  Christian  disciple- 
ship  which  we  acknowledge  when  we  enter  into  covenant  with 
God.  With  such  high  endeavors  do  we  set  out  to  live  the 
Christian  life. 

Are  they  not  right  conditions  Are  they  not  what  we 
ought  to  expect  t  Could  they  be  any  different Surely  if 
God  be  not  worthy  the  first  place  in  our  souls.  He  is  not  God 
at  all.  "  My  glory  will  I  not  give  to  another."  If  right  be 
right,  then  we  cannot  yield  a  half-hearted  obedience  to  it,  for 
that  would  make  right  only  half  right. 

The  one  who  has  never  tasted  the  love  of  Christ,  who 
knows  nothing  of  the  blessedness  of  His  service,  might  say 
that  this  looked  hard ;  to  give  up  all  for  Christ  and  to  make 


09 


Him  first  and  foremost  in  love  and  in  service ;  but  no  true 
Christian  can  speak  of  its  being  a  hardship  to  put  anything 
in  a  secondary  place  to  his  Saviour.  As  to  money,  pleasure, 
ease,  place,  how  can  a  disciple  of  Christ  who  has  begun 
really  to  know  his  Lord,  feel  that  these  can  be  put  before 
Christ  ? 

Is  there  more  than  one  thing  that  is  worth  setting  our 
hearts  upon  and  spending  our  lives  for  ?  What  follower  of 
Christ  who  has  felt  the  peace  which  the  Spirit  sent  into  his 
soul  when  he  sought  and  found  pardon,  who  has  known  the 
satisfaction  of  conscious  obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  who 
has  felt  some  of  the  pleasure  of  work  for  Jesus,  and  the  joy 
of  self-denial  for  his  sake,  who  has  begun  to  pierce  behind 
the  veil  into  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  heaven,  can  hesi- 
tate to  answer, — there  is  but  one  thing  of  supreme  import- 
ance for  me  to  gain,  there  is  but  o>ie  tiling  which  should 
demand  the  chief  earnestness  of  my  nature,  the  largest  re- 
sources of  my  soul. 

There  is  nothing  in  all  this  wide  world  which  should  eclipse 
my  Lord,  nothing  which  ought  to  turn  me  aside  from  doing 
His  work. 

But  perhaps  some  one  will  say :  I  cannot  put  my  greatest 
energies  and  enthusiasm  into  religion.  My  business  and 
family  necessarily  occupy  me  so  that  I  have  but  little  time  or 
strength  for  religion.  Such  a  plea  as  this  rests  upon  that 
perverted  medieval  view  of  rehgious  living  and  work  which 
made  men  think  there  was  no  way  to  serve  God  except  by 
withdrawing  from  secular  cares  and  business  into  monas- 
teries. 

There  is  a  legend  I  have  read — told  by  Mrs.  Charles,  of 
some  old  cathedral  chimes.  It  was  one  of  those  old  cathe- 
drals which  the  poets  call  music  in  stone.  The  chimes  were 
the  delight  and  solace  of  all  the  people  in  the  town.  Every 
hour,  night  and  day,  they  sweetly  played  a  tune,  as  if  music 
were  dropping  down  from  heaven  to  cheer  and  elevate  poor 
sinners.  Every  quarter  hour,  a  single  note  or  strain  told  the 
hearers  that  they  were  so  much  nearer  the  end.  So,  thoughts 
of  heaven  and  rest,  and  pure  blessedness,  kept  coming  into 


I  lO 


their  minds,  wafted  there  by  those  silvery  tones  from  the  ca- 
thedral chimes.  Suddenly  the  chimes  ceased.  Peasant  and 
lord  listened  for  them  in  vain.  Great  terror  came  upon  the 
people,  for  they  thought  the  ceasing  of  the  chimes  portended 
some  great  calamity.  Night  came,  but  they  did  not  dare  to 
retire,  and  so  gathered  in  the  square  before  the  cathedral  to 
discuss  in  low  tones  the  disaster.  Suddenly  a  sound  came 
down  from  the  great  tower  in  which  the  chimes  were  hung. 
The  chimes  were  speaking  in  their  soft  weird  tones,  and  as 
they  listened,  the  people  could  distinguish  the  apology  they 
gave.  They  said :  we  were  made  for  sacred  uses,  and  we 
stand  in  a  sacred  building,  and  we  are  not  going  to  be'per- 
verted  to  secular  purposes  any  longer. 

We  are  willing  to  serve  out  the  summons  to  call  the  peo- 
ple to  church  ;  we  will  send  up  glad  notes  at  your  weddings, 
for  marriage  is  a  sacrament ;  we  will  toll  the  solemn  requiem 
when  your  dead  bodies  are  borne  to  the  church  yard.  But 
do  not  expect  us  any  longer  to  do  what  your  house  clocks  do 
as  well.  Let  these  tell  you  when  to  eat,  and  drink  and 
sleep. 

We  are  sacred  things,  set  apart  from  all  secular  uses ;  call 
on  us  no  longer  to  commune  with  things  of  earth  and  time. 
Thus  the  chimes  But  from  the  people  arose  great  lamenta- 
tion. The  fathers,  and  mothers,  and  children  all  mourned 
together,  that,  with  their  work,  and  cares,  and  school,  and 
play,  those  sweet  sounds  which  they  had  learned  to  associate 
with  heavenly  teachings  should  no  longer  mingle. 

To  morning  and  evening  prayer  the  music  of  the  chimes 
had  called  them  ;  at  their  meals  those  sweet  strains  had  re- 
minded them  of  God  the  giver ;  in  the  wakeful  hours  of  the 
night,  when  anxious  or  troubled,  the  mellow  voices  of  the 
bells  had  sent  their  thoughts  to  the  dear  Friend  who  always 
cared  for  them  ;  into  the  sick-room  their  soft  melody  poured 
comfort  and  strength,  and  brought  the  Peace  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  into  their  hearts. 

And  so  all  joined  in  crying,  Sweet  bells,  your  covimoncst 
tones  are  sacred  to  us,  your  heavenly  music  makes  all  our 
labor  like  something  done  for  God.    Happy  and  holy  thoughts 


1 1 1 

are  brought  to  us  in  the  midst  of  household  cares  or  farmers' 
toils  ;  by  the  dear  sound  of  your  voices  all  seems  a  part  of 
the  service  of  God.  Those  unworldly  strains  fall  upon  us  as 
if  from  heaven. 

And  so  went  up  the  lamentation  of  the  people.  But  the 
chimes  obstinately  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  worldly 
affairs.  At  length  a  young  priest  affirmed  his  belief  that  the 
chimes  were  possessed  with  the  devil,  for  they  were  doing 
the  devil's  work  in  refusing  to  let  God's  thoughts  and  inspi- 
rations come  down  into  the  work-a-day  world.  So  they  ex- 
orcised the  bells,  and  then  the  chimes  poured  out  their  floods 
of  sweetness  on  the  air,  and  rich  true  lessons  of  Christian 
love,  and  of  the  better  world  and  of  holiness,  came  each  hour 
of  the  day  into  the  hearts  of  all  the  townspeople. 

The  meaning  of  the  legend  is  not  far  to  seek.  Should  not 
devotion  to  Christ  and  the  pressing  on  to  know  Him  and  the 
power  of  His  resurrection  be  so  supreme,  so  fixed  in  our 
hearts,  that  even  in  our  busiest  hours,  when  most  troubled 
or  careworn,  most  harrassed  or  perplexed,  that  one  thing 
should  steal  into  our  hearts  like  sweet  music  to  give  us  peace 
and  rest,  strength  and  blessedness,  in  spite  of  all 

Should  it  not  be  so  with  us  our  spiritual  life  so  strong, 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteousness  so  first  of  all, 
that  religion  should  weave  itself  into  all  our  business  and  all 
our  enjoyments,  and  all  our  social  and  domestic  life,  that  all 
should  be  the  service  of  God  } 

There  can  be  no  question  with  any  of  us,  that  the  one 
thing  which  ought  to  be  in  our  mind  and  heart  should  be 
that  which  so  weighed  upon  the  mind  of  Paul.  "  Forgetting 
those  things  which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forward  unto 
those  things  which  are  before,  I  press  toward  the  mark  for 
the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus."  "Let 
us,  therefore,  as  many  as  be  perfect,  be  thus  minded." 

And  if  it  should  be  so,  that  Christ  should  be  always  first 
in  our  minds,  what  might  we  not  accomplish,  first  in  our  own 
spiritual  strengthening  and  exaltation,  and  then,  in  extend- 
ing and  making  firm  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord  on  earth } 

What  has  been  wrought  for  the  Church  of  Christ  and  in 


1 12 


the  developing  of  Christian  character  towards  perfection,  has 
been  performed,  just  as  in  material  progress — by  concentra- 
tion of  energy,  enthusiasm  and  practical  wisdom  upon  the 
oiic  tiling. 

Luther,  Knox,  Wesley,  Whitefield,  Martin,  Brainard,  How 
ard,  Judson,  the  hosts  of  Christian  workers,  achieved  what 
they  did  for  Christ  because  with  singleness  of  aim,  and  in- 
tentness  of  purpose,  with  devotion  and  loyalty  to  their  great 
Captain,  they  simply  followed  where  He  had  led.  And  this 
is  all  that  is  required  of  us,  all  that  is  necessary  for  us  in 
order  to  realize  the  highest  conception  of  Christian  living, 
and  all  that  is  necessary  to  bring  this  world  to  Jesus. 

Oh,  I  think,  as  I  see  the  pressing  eagerness  which  men 
(Christian  men)  manifest  to  gain  money,  office,  comfort  and 
enjoyment, — oh,  that  t-his  energy,  this  devotedness,  this  per- 
sistency could  be  given  to  Christ  really,  as  these  men  profess 
to  have  given  them  ;  then,  what  triumphs  would  be  in  pros- 
pect for  the  church  of  Christ ;  in  what  a  glorious  career 
should  we  move  to  victory  over  all  the  forces  of  this  world ! 
It  would  require  only  what  we  have  to  give  if  we  will ; 
namely,  the  consecration,  the  whole-hearted  consecration  of 
all  the  powers  and  faculties  with  which  the  Creator  has  al- 
ready endowed  us.  No  new  forces  are  needed,  but  only  the 
Holy  Spirit  working  through  these  natural  energies  and  af- 
fections, to  transform  us  into  Christians  that  our  Lord  would 
delight  to  honor,  and  change  this  whole  earth  into  the  beau- 
tiful and  flourishing  garden  of  the  Lord. 


VL 

CHRIST'S  CALL  TO  THE  UNCON- 
VERTED. 

[Preached  Rockville,  Union  Service,  Feb.  15,  1880.] 

Rev.  3:  20.  "  Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock :  if  any  man 
hear  my  voice  and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup 
with  him,  and  he  with  me." 


There  are  a  great  many  religions  in  the  world,  but  none  of 
them  all,  except  Christianity,  represents  God  as  seeking  man 
and  coming  to  him  to  save  him. 

The  most  beneficent  of  all  outside  religions,  in  its  original, 
is  Buddhism.  The  founder  of  it  was  the  most  Christ-like  of 
any  man  that  ever  lived  who  had  not  known  Christ.  With 
pain  and  self-denial,  with  life-long  earnestnesss  and  devotion, 
he  sought  to  teach  men  how  to  escape  sin  and  its  misery,  and 
to  find  everlasting  rest.  He  thought  it  necessary  for  himself 
to  spend  many  years  in  fasting  and  solitary  meditation  to 
get  a  glimpse  of  the  truth.  Then  the  best  that  he  could  tell 
his  fellow-men  was,  that  through  his  rules  and  by  the  severest 
self  discipline  they  might  eventually  attain  unto  complete 
rest.  And  the  result  of  his  teaching  is,  on  the  one  hand, 
monastic  asceticism,  with  severest  self-torture  and  formalism  ; 
and  on  the  other  the  grossest  idolatry  and  superstition.  But 
Christianity  teaches  us  that  God  comes  down  to  earth  seek- 
ing sinful  men  ;  that  he  furnishes  every  means  to  enable 
them  to  escape  their  misery  and  guilt ;  much  more  than  that. 
He  offers  constant  help  and  constant  guidance  to  every  one 
that  is  groping  the  way  out. 

No  more  beautiful  and  striking,  no  more  encouraging  and 
inspiring  figure  could  be  given  of  this  great  truth  than  this 
15 


114 


in  the  text  :  The  Son  of  God  standing  at  the  door  of  the 
heart  of  each  sinful  man,  and  knocking  and  waiting — waiting 
and  knocking  with  long  and  unwearied  patience,  biding  the 
time  when  the  door  shall  be  opened  that  He  may  enter  in 
and  bestow  a  priceless  and  endless  blessing. 

It  is  a  very  touching  thought,  too,  that  one  so  mighty  and 
so  good,  the  infinite  Creator  and  Upholder  of  the  universe, 
should  so  wait  upon  the  will  of  His  creatures,  so  gently 
intercede  with  them,  so  lovingly  call  them  to  his  rest  and 
salvation. 

And  this  figure  of  the  text  is  of  a  piece  with  other  repre- 
sentations of  the  patient  waiting  and  loving  pleading  of  our 
God.  Some  of  the  most  familiar  and  most  precious  passages 
of  the  Bible  thus  represent  the  divine  search  for  man. 
"  Come,  now,  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord,  though 
your  sins  be  as  scarlet  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow ; 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool." 

And  what  sweeter,  more  affecting  words  than  the  oft- 
quoted  invitation  of  Jesus  :  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  And  in  one 
utterance  of  Jesus  we  have,  as  it  were,  an  epitome  of  all 
history,  so  far  as  it  shows  God's  dealings  with  man  ;  His  for- 
bearance. His  pity.  His  readiness  to  save,  His  waiting  for 
man  to  accept  His  salvation.  Sitting  over  against  the  city, 
He  wept  over  it  and  said :  "  O,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem, 
thou  that  killest  the  prophets  and  stonest  them  who  are  sent 
unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  children 
together,  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her 
wings,  and  ye  would  not."  Could  there  be  expressed  more 
forcibly  and  more  pathetically  the  fact  of  God's  entire  will- 
ingness to  save  and  bless,  and  man's  unwillingness  to  be 
saved  .''  Jesus  gave  it  as  the  one  purpose  of  his  life  that  he 
came  to  seek  and  to  save  those  that  are  lost.  Take  the  three 
passages  together  :  Jesus'  lament  over  Jerusalem,  His  decla- 
ration of  the  purpose  of  His  life  while  on  earth,  and  my  text, 
and  we  have  the  joyful  and  hopeful  truth  that  our  Redeemer 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  ever  has  been,  is  now  and  ever  will 
be,  so  long  as  the  world  stands,  using  every  effort  to  bring 


"5 


men  home  to  Him  and  to  His  salvation.  For  these  words  of 
my  text  speak  of  Christ  as  standing  at  the  door  of  men's 
hearts  and  knocking  for  admittance,  long  after  he  had  as- 
cended from  earth.  Consequently,  we  are  taught  that  He  is 
striving  now,  still  knocking,  still  seeking.  Will  we  accept 
His  company.  His  favors,  and  the  salvation  which  He  brings 
His  voice  may  now  be  heard,  if  men  will  listen  ;  and  if  they 
will  hear  his  voice,  now  as  then  is  the  promise  good,  that  He 
will  come  in,  and  so  the  Son  of  God  and  sinful  man  may 
feast  together. 

I.  And  how  does  his  voice  come  to  us  May  we  hear  it,  as 
did  the  prophets  of  old,  in  the  visions  of  the  night,  or  must 
we  listen  for  it  in  the  recesses  of  our  soul,  speaking  like  the 
still,  small  voice  that  warns  us  of  sin  and  stirs  up  its  sleeping 
faculties  in  protest  when  we  would  do  wrong  ?  May  we  easily 
distinguish  the  voice  from  all  others .''  Does  it  call  to  us 
frequently.''  It  is  a  voice  that  calls  upon  us  incessantly,  I 
answer,  only  we  so  deaden  our  spiritual  senses  that  having 
eyes  we  see  not,  having  ears  we  hear  not,  neither  will  we 
understand.  A  great  many  are  so  spiritually  stupid  that 
unless  the  voice  of  God  thunders  in  their  ears  they  will  not 
admit  that  he  is  nigh ;  unless  the  sound  of  the  knocking  of 
the  Spirit  rises  above  the  din  and  clatter  of  the  world 
they  will  pay  no  attention. 

The  constant  daily  benefactions  of  the  Heavenly  Father, 
the  perpetual  streams  of  bounties  which  His  goodness  causes 
to  flow  into  our  lives,  the  marks  of  His  loving  regard  and  care 
around  us  ;  all  these  speak  to  us,  and  we  ought  to  hear  their 
voice,  telling  us  that  we  should  live  as  obedient,  truthful 
children,  and  that  by  a  natural  impulse  we  should  seek  to  be 
in  as  close  communion  with  God  as  possible. 

But  God  is  not  limited  in  means  of  speaking  to  us  ;  not 
only  through  the  daily  mercies  of  His  providence  and 
through  the  voice  of  nature,  not  only  through  the  conscience 
and  the  spiritual  sensibilities  does  he  seek  to  call  us  into 
fellowship  with  Himself,  but  especially  through  the  old 
accustomed  avenues  of  the  written  and  spoken  word,  does 
there  come  the  warning  from  sin  and  the  invitation  to  live  in 


ii6 

God's  blessed  ways.  Not  one  of  us  all  but  has  known  at 
times  that  his  Redeemer  was  calling  upon  him  ;  upon  him 
especially,  to  forsake  the  way  of  unrighteousness  and  to 
cleave  unto  God.  There  are  a  great  many  avenues  into  the 
soul  of  man,  and  if  he  will  but  open  the  door  he  may  hear 
the  voice  of  God  as  plainly  as  Adam  heard  it  when  he 
walked  up  and  down  in  the  paths  of  the  garden  of  Eden, 
The  sense  of  guilt  makes  us  try  to  hide  ourselves  from  our 
God  in  some  of  the  winding  ways  of  sin,  but  still  he  calls 
after  us. 

A  gentleman,  not  a  Christian,  who  had  a  very  beautiful 
home  and  family,  invited  a  friend  into  the  nursery  where  his 
two  little  boys  were  asleep.  "  They  are  very  beautiful,"  said 
the  friend,  "  but  are  they  going  to  have  no  help  from  the 
father  in  getting  into  heaven } "  The  words  came  to  the 
father  as  the  very  pleading  of  Christ  to  let  Him  in  as  his 
Helper,  and  he  listened  to  the  voice.  Having  once  opened  his 
heart  he  could  not  help  listening,  and  he  obeyed  and  gave  him- 
self to  Christ,  afterwards  leading,  not  only  his  noble  boys,  but 
many  others  to  Him.  And  there  is  not  an  impenitent  man 
or  woman  here  to-night,  nor  a  careless  professing  Christian, 
who  have  children,  but  might  hear  that  same  pleading  of 
Christ,  as  they  look  upon  their  dear,  sweet  faces  to-night — 
"  Are  these  children  to  have  no  help  from  father  or  mother 
in  getting  to  heaven  ? "  Christ  often  knocks  at  men's  hearts  by 
means  of  children.  It  is  often  now  as  in  days  of  old — "  a 
little  child  shall  lead  them." 

There  was  an  Indian  father  who  had  only  one  little  girl 
left,  and  she  was  pining  away  with  consumption.  He  was 
very  tender  with  her,  caring  for  her  with  his  own  hands, 
taking  her  out  into  the  bright  sunshine  in  the  pleasant  June. 
She  had  opened  her  heart  to  Jesus,  through  the  words  of  the 
missionaries,  and  found  peace  even  as  she  was  to  pass  away. 
But  her  father  had  not  yet  known  how  sweet  it  was  to  dwell 
in  the  love  of  Christ,  brighter  than  the  sunshine  of  June, 
and  it  was  all  dark  to  him.  On  a  beautiful,  warm  day,  his 
little  girl  asked  her  father  to  take  her  down  by  the  side  of  the 
brook,  of  whose  soft  murmur  and  green  banks  she  was  very 


117 


fond,  perhaps  because  it  made  her  think  of  the  green  pastures 
and  still  waters  where  the  Good  Shepherd  leads  his  beloved. 
The  father  denied  her  nothing  ;  so  took  her  in  his  arms  ten- 
derly and  carried  her  by  the  brookside.  And  as  she  lay  on 
the  soft  grass,  perhaps  she  saw  the  angels  beckoning  her,  for 
suddenly  she  cried  out,  "  Father,  pray."  "  I  can't,"  he  replied. 
"  I  have  never  prayed."  "  But,  father,  do  pray,  and  ask  God 
to  make  you  a  Christian,  for  I  am  going  now  where  Jesus 
and  the  angels  are,  and  I  want  to  tell  them  that  my  father 
was  praying."  And  so  the  father,  though  his  heart  was 
almost  breaking,  could  not  refuse  his  little  girl's  last  request, 
and  knelt  down  to  pray.  The  spirit  of  prayer  and  of  peni- 
tence was  given  him,  and  he  poured  out  his  soul  in  penitence 
to  God,  and  opened  his  heart  for  Jesus  to  come  in.  And 
when  he  arose,  he  looked  upon  his  little  girl,  and  she  lay 
there  dead,  with  a  sweet,  glad  smile  upon  her  lips,  gone  to 
tell  the  angels  that  her  father  was  praying.  It  may  be  that 
there  are  some'  here  whose  dear  girl  or  boy  is  soon  to  go 
where  "  their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of  the  Father 
in  heaven."  And  is  not  the  voice  of  Jesus  speaking  through 
them,  pleading  with  you  to  open  your  soul  in  prayer  that  they 
may  carry  the  news  to  heaven — ''my  father,  my  mother,  prays." 

Death  is  often  recognized  as  being  the  voice  of  Jesus,  say- 
ing again  through  the  speechless  lips  of  the  departed,  what 
He  himself  said  to  His  disciples,  "  Be  ye  also  ready,  for  in 
such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not  the  Son  of  Man  cometh."  But 
why  will  we  not  also  hear  the  voice  of  our  Lord  when  all  is  joy 
and  gladness,  and  know  then  that  He  is  knocking  for  admit- 
tance to  our  souls  .''  Why  should  we  wait  till  our  hearts  are 
wrung  with  anguish,  before  we  will  admit  that  we  need  the 
companionship  and  divine  indwelling  of  the  Comforter  ? 
Unstop  your  ears,  my  friends,  and  every  passing  breeze  would 
tell  how  divine  and  how  precious  are  the  gifts  of  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  world  ;  how  blessed  His  presence  every  hour 
of  the  day.  Open  your  eyes,  and  every  one  of  the  million 
rays  of  sunlight  flooding  field  and  forest  brings  a  sweet  mes- 
sage of  the  radiance  that  would  fill  your  soul,  if  you  would 
but  let  in  your  waiting  Saviour. 


ii8 


The  simple  thought  that  the  Son  of  God  is  waiting  for  the 
simple  purpose  of  making  our  souls  fit  to  dwell  with  Him 
in  eternal  blessedness,  ought  to  move  us  at  once  to  open  the 
door  and  let  Him  in.  Why  does  not  the  love  of  Christ  move 
more  men  to  love  Him  who  first  loved  us  ;  to  yield  to  Him  a 
glad  and  willing  obedience  ?  People  say,  preach  the  love  of 
God ;  that  will  move  men  ;  men  are  not  converted  now 
through  fear.  We  do  preach  the  love  of  God,  as  we  do  most 
sincerely  and  most  heartily  believe  it.  We  sing  the  love  of 
God,  for  we  feel  it  and  cannot  help  sending  up  notes  of  praise 
for  the  joy  we  have  experienced,  because  of  his  great  love. 
The  love  of  God  made  known  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  continually  rehearsed  to  us  as  it  is,  through  his  written 
book,  and  through  every  page  of  nature's  great  revelation, — 
this  wonderful  love  certainly  ought  to  compel  every  one  of  us 
to  yield  to  His  beseeching,  to  open  the  door  and  let  Him  into 
our  hearts.  Why  do  we  not .''  Why  not  listen  to  the  still, 
small  voice,  speaking  in  such  gentle  phrase,  Instead  of  wait- 
ing for  the  sterner,  more  startling  call  coming  through  some 
great  calamity,  or  through  the  cold,  ghastly  lips  of  the  death- 
angel.  But  if  you  do  not  heed  His  kind  approaches,  do  not 
think  Him  harsh  when  He  deems  it  necessary  to  arouse 
your  spiritual  faculties  by  the  shock  of  trouble. 

n.  And,  now,  next,  how  do  we  open  the  door,  when  we 
hear  His  voice How  can  we  admit  or  refuse  to  admit  Him 
whose  presence  fills  heaven  and  earth  and  who  has  power  to 
enter  every  secret  place  Is  it  not  strange  that  our  will  can 
shut  Him  out,  or  admit  Him  into  closest  companionship  ? 
Yet  so  it  is.  So  our  Saviour  represents  and  so  our  experience 
testifies.  There  is  not  one  here,  who  has  come  into  fellow- 
ship with  Christ,  but  knows  that  it  was  his  own  will,  and  that 
alone  which  kept  Christ  from  him  during  the  years  when  he 
was  without  God  and  without  hope  in  the  world.  Every  one 
knows,  who  now  enjoys  the  intimate  communion  and  the 
blessed  saving  power  of  Jesus,  that  it  is  his  own  yielding, 
his  own  obedience,  that  thus  brings  the  divine  sway  into  his 
soul. 

It  may  be  but  a  slight  act  that  denotes  the  change  of  inch- 


119 


nation  and  opens  the  door  for  the  indwelling  of  Christ;  but 
small  as  it  may  be,  it  is  a  very  decisive  act,  changing  the 
whole  tenor  of  one's  life  here,  and  the  entire  fate  for  eternity. 
The  specific  act  may  be  a  different  one  for  each  individual 
soul,  but  the  inward  spiritual  movement  is  the  same  for  every 
one — a  complete  revolution  from  the  fixed  feeling,  /  will  not, 
to  the  full  determination,  /  will.  The  hinges  of  the  door  so 
long  shut  against  Christ  may  be  very  rusty,  and  there  may 
be  much  creaking  and  groaning  at  first  as  it  slowly  opens, 
but  the  oil  of  divine  grace  shall  at  length  make  it  turn  with 
ease  and  in  silence,  as  we  gladly  admit  Him  from  whom,  for 
so  long,  we  have  turned  away.  The  act  through  which  we 
become  Christians,  and  He  becomes  ours,  may  be  merely  the 
silent  assent  of  the  will  after  a  long  struggle,  but  will  more 
likely  be  some  outward  expression  which  we  have  been  un- 
willing to  make.  Sometimes  it  is  the  cheerful  doing  of  one 
duty,  or  a  few  neglected  duties,  which  will  open  the  door. 
In  one  of  the  cases  I  have  mentioned,  what  the  father  of  the 
little  girl  needed  was  to  pray.  As  soon  as  he  bowed  in 
prayer  he  received  Christ,  and  ever  after  his  Lord  dwelt  with 
him.  He  was  an  earnest  Christian.  The  rich  young  noble- 
man came  to  Jesus  asking  what  he  must  do,  and  Christ  told 
him  there  was  one  thing — he  must  give  up  his  riches,  for 
while  his  heart  was  set  on  them  he  could  never  open  his  soul 
to  heavenly  influences.  Zaccheus  received  the  Lord  in  just 
the  same  way  that  Jesus  indicated  to  the  ruler — he  gladly  con- 
sented to  use  his  property  for  those  whom  he  had  wronged, and 
for  the  poor,  if  Christ  would  come  in  and  dine  with  him.  I 
think  that  just  this  is  what  a  great  many  now-a-days  need  to 
do.  They  will  never  open  the  door  to  the  Lord  of  Glory 
until  their  affections  are  detached  from  their  money,  their 
manufacturing,  their  stores,  and  their  business.  When  these 
things  fill  up  the  whole  of  man's  soul,  of  course  there  is  no 
room  for  Jesus.  Andrew,  as  soon  as  he  heard  that  a  Saviour 
was  come  into  the  world,  gave  his  heart  to  Him,  and  ran 
immediately  to  tell  Peter.  Paul,  on  the  other  hand,  long 
withstood  Him,  fought  against  Him,  persecuted  His  follow- 
ers ;  but  as  soon  as  he  was  convinced  of  his  dreadful  mistake. 


I20 


without  delay  he  gave  himself  entirely  to  his  Lord,  and  never 
ceased  to  lament  that  he  had  so  long  closed  his  eyes  and 
heart  to  the  divine  testimony. 

Luther  struggled  long  and  bitterly  to  free  himself  from 
his  sense  of  sin  and  to  find  peace  and  pardon.  Finally,  one 
word  let  the  light  into  his  heart,  faith.  "The  just  shall  live 
by  faith,"  came  like  a  flash  of  lightning  into  his  soul,  and 
he  opened  the  door  at  once,  and  he  and  his  Lord  henceforth 
dwelt  together. 

Whether  young  or  old,  whether  one  has  kept  his  Lord  a 
long  time  waiting  and  knocking,  or  has  but  just  begun  to 
apprehend  that  Christ  came  to  save  him,  there  is  one  thing 
requisite,  viz.,  to  say,  I  will  ;  that  is  to  open  the  door. 

Some  here  may  have  no  awakening  sense  of  God's  mercy 
and  love,  of  their  own  need  of  God's  grace,  and  consequently 
no  beginning  of  desire  to  live  a  life  with  God  and  partake  of 
His  salvation.  To  those  we  can  only  say,  notwithstanding 
your  unconcern,  notwithstanding  your  treatment  of  this 
loving,  patient  Savior,  still  He  waits  for  you,  still  He  seeks 
access  to  your  heart.  He  only  wishes  to  do  you  good,  to  add 
to  your  happiness,  to  draw  you  home  now.  Will  you  always 
refuse 

But  some,  no  doubt,  there  are  here,  as  in  almost  every  such 
assembly,  who  are  fully  aware  that  their  relations  to  God  are 
not  what  they  ought  to  be  ;  that  besides  the  many  sins  of 
their  life  they  have  treated  Him  who  died  for  them  as  they 
would  be  ashamed  to  treat  any  man  who  had  sought  to 
befriend  them,  and  yet,  notwithstanding  this  consciousness, 
they  are  not  willing  to  treat  him  any  better  yet.  There  are 
a  great  many,  I  think,  of  this  class  who  are  at  heart  con- 
vinced that  they  ought  to  lead  a  Christian  life,  that 
they  ought  to  avow  themselves  Christ's  disciples,  and 
yet  will  not  perform  the  one  decisive  act  that  will  show 
that  they  have  yielded.  Some  need  simply  to  say,  "  Well,  I 
have  been  leading  the  wrong  sort  of  a  life.  I  will  leave  it, 
and  will  give  my  purposes  and  determinations  to  Christ 
henceforth."  Some  have  only  to  confess  heartily,  "I  have 
been  depending  upon  my  own  goodness,  saying  that  Christ 


121 


and  His  death  was  of  no  use  to  me,  but  now  I  feel  and  will 
confess  that  my  goodness  is  pretty  poor  stuff.  I  do  need 
Christ  and  His  salvation  ;  I  cannot  be  fit  for  heaven  without 
His  help  and  grace ;  I  will  humbly  depend  upon  Him  hence- 
forth." 

Some  have  made  such  purposes,  that  all  they  need  is,  by 
some  courageous  stand,  by  some  firm  determination  to  carry 
their  will,  and  with  it  their  whole  being,  over  to  the  Lord's 
side.  The  beginning  of  family  prayer,  the  bowing  before 
God  in  secret  prayer,  begging  pardon  and  resigning  all  to 
Him,  the  standing  up  before  men  and  confessing  Christ,  the 
giving  up  some  habit,  the  breaking  some  tie  that  binds  to  the 
world,  the  casting  out  some  one  demon  of  selfishness,  of 
revenge,  of  spite,  of  greed — any  one  of  these  things  may  be 
the  opening  of  the  door  to  the  entrance  of  the  King.  Each 
of  these  may  be  a  small  thing  in  our  estimation,  but  small  or 
great,  in  either  case  it  equally  binds  the  will  against  yielding 
to  Christ's  invitation  and  appeals.  Christ  asks  for  an  open 
door  into  our  innermost  being,  and  the  door  must  fly  open 
by  our  free  will.  He  will  not.  He  cannot,  force  an  entrance. 
If  we  are  not  willing  disciples  of  the  Lord  we  are  not  disci- 
ples at  all. 

To  become  a  Christian,  an  heir  of  eternal  glory,  then,  is 
but  to  open  the  door  and  let  Christ  in.  And  the  determina- 
tion to  do  that  may  be  as  suddenly  and  as  quickly  made  as 
the  opening  of  tJiat  door.  There  is  no  one  here  but  may 
become  a  whole-hearted  Christian  before  he  passes  through 
the  door.  A  young  lady  came  near  drowning.  And  as 
drowning  persons  often  do,  she  saw  her  whole  life  pass  before 
her,  and  in  the  few  seconds  before  she  lost  consciousness, 
she  saw  and  felt  how  grievously  she  had  treated  Christ  ;  how 
great  her  sins  were  and  how  much  she  needed  Christ's  sal- 
vation. She  resolved  to  give  herself  to  him.  She  was  saved 
from  the  water  and  saved  from  her  sins.  Previous  to  her 
peril  she  had  been  a  gay  and  giddy  young  woman,  not  seem- 
ing to  care  for  anything  but  the  baser  enjoyments  of  the 
world  ;  ever  after  she  bore  every  evidence  of  being  a  devout, 
working,  happy  Christian.  She  turned  her  soul  to  Christ 
i6 


122 


during  the  few  seconds  when  she  was  conscious  in  the 
water. 

III.  Our  text  gives  the  blessed  results  of  the  reception  of 
Jesus.  If  any  man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  will 
come  in  to  him  and  sup  with  him  and  he  with  me.  This  means 
most  intimate  and  affectionate  communion.  Eating  with  a 
person  in  eastern  countries  means  a  great  deal  more  than  it 
does  here.  It  binds  men  together  in  bonds  of  lasting  friend- 
ship. We  read  in  our  old  Greek  books  that  if  a  man  had 
been  the  guest  of  another,  it  created  a  relation  like  that  of  a 
brother.  One  was  bound  by  every  law  of  honor  to  defend  , 
his  guest,  even  to  the  death.  Dr.  Hamlin,  in  his  book 
"  Among  the  Turks,"  tells  of  eating  with  an  official,  who 
with  his  own  fingers  took  a  piece  of  meat  and  handed  it  to 
him.  "  Do  you  know  what  I  have  done  said  the  pasha. 
"  Performed  an  act  of  hospitality,"  said  Dr.  Hamlin.  "Much 
more  than  that,"  said  the  other,  "  I  have  placed  myself  under 
the  most  sacred  obligation  to  defend  you,  or  to  help  you  in 
any  way  as  long  as  I  live."  From  this  idea  of  the  sacredness 
of  a  meal  eaten  together  comes,  in  part,  the  deep  and  holy 
significance  of  Christian  communion  in  the  Lord's  Supper. 

This  eastern  symboUsm  explains  the  expression  of  our 
text :  "  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  sup  with  him,  and  he  with 
me."  It  not  only  implies  that  if  we  will  admit  our  Redeemer 
as  our  guest,  we  shall  receive  a  most  dear  friend  for  life,  but 
also  that.  He  being  our  guest,  we  come  under  obligation  to 
defend  Him,  to  stand  up  for  Him,  always  and  everywhere. 
Let  us  remember  this  part,  fellow  Christians  ;  Jesus  is  our 
guest,  and  our  friend  ;  grievous  and  very  dishonorable  will  it 
be  if  we  fail  Him,  if  we  betray  Him  to  the  world,  turn  our 
backs  on  Him,  or  break  our  connection  with  Him. 

There  is  also  implied  in  these  words  of  Christ  the  great 
enjoyment  we  may  have  in  His  company,  the  great  delight 
which  feasting  with  Him  will  bring.  A  friend  that  will 
never  fail  us,  joys  that  will  surpass  all  else  on  earth,  an 
entrance  at  length  into  His  home  on  high,  to  be  his  guest 
forever  ;  this  is  the  reward  offered  if  we  will  open  the  door 
and  let  Him  in.    But  let  us  be  frank.    I  think  that  there 


123 


are  some  professing  Christians  who  would  say  that 
they  had  not  experienced  all  that  this  text  promises. 
I  fear  that  there  are  some  who  practically  contradict  this 
word  of  Jesus.  They  appear  to  be  so  eager  to  get  their 
enjoyment  out  of  something  else.  Perhaps  they  have  not 
opened  wide  the  door,  they  do  not  want  to  receive  Christ 
entirely,  and  think  if  they  only  leave  the  door  ajar,  something 
of  Christ's  love  and  blessedness  may  come  in,  if  not  all. 
But  they  ought  to  know  that  Christ  cannot  compromise  with 
the  world  or  the  devil,  however  they  may  try  to  do  so.  We 
cannot  have  any  of  the  blessedness  of  religion  unless  we 
admit  Christ  entirely  and  with  our  whole  heart. 

An  earthly  friend  even  would  feel  dishonored  and  insulted, 
if  after  having  invited  him  to  dine  with  us,  we  let  him  come 
no  farther  than  the  hall  and  viewed  him  with  suspicion  and 
distrust.  If  we  profess  to  be  on  such  intimate  terms  with 
Christ  as  to  have  invited  Him  to  stay  with  us,  let  us,  dear 
friends,  treat  Him  as  an  honored  and  beloved  guest,  and  not 
insult  Him  in  our  own  house.  But  multitudes  have  given 
Him  their  whole-hearted  welcome,  and  have  found  the  com- 
munion most  delightful  and  the  blessings  of  His  presence 
passing  all  expectations.  To  feel  that  one  is  pardoned,  that 
the  burden  is  gone,  that  fear  of  the  future  now  is  gone,  that 
one  from  being  wrong,  has  at  length  got  right,  that  he  has 
a  never  failing  friend,  a  strong  helper,  an  ever  ready  comfort- 
er, that  one's  life  is  now  bound  up  with  that  of  the  eternal 
one,  that  he  is  a  child  of  God,  heir  to  all  glory  and  to  all  the 
riches  of  the  kingdom  of  God — is  not  all  this  (and  there  is 
still  more,  as  the  Christian  knows),  is  not  all  this  sufificient 
happiness  to  authorize  us  to  say  that  there  is  nothing  like  it, 
a  sufificient  inducement  to  throw  wide  open  the  door  and  let 
the  king  of  glory  in 

The  former  king  of  Prussia  was  a  very  pious  man,  and  also 
very  fond  of  children.  One  day  he  was  visiting  a  school 
and  near  the  close  asked  a  few  questions.  "  To  what  kingdom 
does  this  belong.'"  said  he,  taking  up  a  piece  of  chalk.  "  To 
the  mineral  kingdom,"  the  class  promptly  replied.  "  And  to 
what  this     asked  he  again,  holding  up  a  sliver  of  wood. 


124 


"  To  the  vegetable  kingdom,"  was  the  answer.  "  And  to 
what  kingdom  do  I  belong  ?"  he  asked.  They  hesitated — 
they  did  not  want  to  say  that  their  king  belonged  to  the  ani- 
mal kingdom.  Pretty  soon,  however,  a  bright  little  girl  held 
up  her  hand.  "  What  is  it  ?"  said  the  king,  "To  the  king- 
dom of  God,"  she  timidly  answered.  The  old  king  was  de- 
lighted. "  I  hope  I  belong  there,"  said  he.  There  is  no 
greater  honor  for  a  king  than  to  be  enrolled  in  the  kingdom 
of  God,  with  Jesus  as  /its  king  and  leader.  There  can  be 
nothing  more  blessed  for  all  of  us  than  to  have  the  close 
companionship  and  intimate  friendship  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.  And  this  He  promises  us,  if  we  will  open  the  door 
and  let  Him  in.  But  the  honor  of  being  in  companionship 
with  so  noble  a  friend  is  not  for  kings  and  princes  alone. 
There  is  no  one,  however  humble,  however  bad  and  sinful, 
but  may  have  this  royal  guest,  and  enjoy  this  rich  feast. 

Our  king  Jesus  is  willing  to  enter  any  place,  where  he  may 
be  sincerely  invited,  and  to  bring  all  his  rich  gifts  with  Him. 
I  have  been  much  touched  in  reading  a  story  of  a  poor  little 
boy,  found  by  the  city  missionary,  in  a  garret  in  London. 
The  brutal  father  had  beaten  him  for  refusing  any  longer  to 
be  a  street  thief.  Lying  near  to  death's  door,  battered  and 
bruised,  he  tells  the  missionary  why  he  could  no  longer  live 
that  wicked  life.  Raising  himself  upon  his  elbow  he  sings 
his  little  song : 

"Gentle  Jesus  meek  and  mild, 
Look  upon  a  little  child : 
Pity  my  simplicity, 
Suffer  me  to  come  to  thee. 
Fain  I  would  to  thee  be  brought, 
Gracious  Lord,  forbid  it  not, 
In  the  kingdom  of  thy  grace. 
Give  a  little  child  a  place.  ' 

Such  is  the  dying  victory  of  a  little  street  thief  who  had 
opened  his  heart  to  Christ.  How  beautifully  this  confirms 
the  promise  of  Jesus — "  if  any  man  hear  my  voice  and  open 
the  door  I  wt//  come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him  and  he 
y/ith  me."    And  as  He  came  to  the  lonely  friendless  little 


125 


boy  in  the  garret,  and  made  the  desolate  place  bright  with 
trust  and  peace,  so  will  He  come  to  be  the  everlasting  Friend 
and  Comforter  of  every  one  of  us,  if  we  will  receive  Him. 
And  being  with  us,  He  will  be  our  staff  and  support  too  as 
we  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and  will 
enable  us  to  sing  songs  even  in  the  presence  of  the  death- 
angel. 

My  friends,  if  you  have  not  already  let  Him  in,  He  is  wait- 
ing and  knocking  now  ;  why  will  you  deny  Him  admittance? 
Why  will  you  day  after  day  turn  Him  away  ?  Would  you 
treat  any  earthly  guest  so  inhospitably  ?  And  have  you  no 
anticipations  that  if  you  refuse  to  have  Him  dwell  with  you 
on  earth,  He  will  be  compelled  to  say  when  you  stand  at  the 
door  of  Heaven,  (His  door),  Depart,  I  never  knew  you  ? 

But  now,  as  he  stands  patiently  waiting,  you  can,  at  once, 
to-night,  open  the  door  and  let  Him  in.    Will  you  ? 


VII. 

EASTER  THOUGHTS. 

[Preached,  Rockville,  March  28,  1880  :  and  his  last  written  Sermon.] 


I  Cor.  15  :  20. — "  But  now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become 
the  first  fruits  of  them  that  slept." 

The  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  which  is  commemorated  by 
Christendom  to  day,  is,  in  one  sense,  the  most  essential  fact 
of  the  gospel  narrative.  "  If  Christ  be  not  raised  your  faith 
is  vain." 

Christ  crucified  certainly  is  the  ground  of  our  pardon  and 
of  our  hope  of  heaven,  but  that  ground  is  in  the  faith  that 
He  was  the  Son  of  God  :  and  if  He  died  and  rose  not  again, 
then  was  His  death  the  death  of  a  man  only,  and  can  have 
no  atoning  efficacy.  If  the  grave  held  Him,  then  shall  it 
hold  us  all  forever,  there  is  no  redemption  from  its  power. 

There  is  no  fact  then  in  all  this  world's  history  so  inex- 
pressibly important  to  us  as  this  of  the  resurrection  from  the 
dead  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

It  seems  natural  that  every  Christian  believer  would  love 
to  trace  with  absorbing  interest  every  part  of  that  marvelous 
event,  and  most  carefully  note  the  accumulated  proofs  of  its 
truth.  And  just  here,  too,  would  we  think  that  the  unbe- 
liever or  the  half  believer  would  longest  pause,  and  most 
intensely  examine  whether  all  this  be  so  or  not,  that  he  might 
have  whereon  to  build. 

Our  text  speaks  first  of  the  fact  of  the  resnrrection  of 
Christ,  and  then  of  our  own  hopes  with  that.  Following 
this,  I  will  ask  you  again  to  go  over  the  narrative  of  the  res- 
urrection and  review  with  me  the  incontestable  evidence  of 
its  truth,  and  then  to  reflect  a  little  upon  the  blessed  hope 
that  it  brings  to  us  to-day. 


127 


Go  back,  in  imagination,  if  you  can,  to  that  Friday  even- 
ing, when  to  the  disciples  of  Jesus  all  seemed  to  be  over. 
The  followers  of  Jesus  had  seen  their  master  arrested,  tried, 
ignominiously  treated,  and  put  to  a  shameful  death  ;  the  death 
of  a  slave.  They  were  so  frightened,  that  but  one  of  all  the 
men  who  had  been  with  Him  through  His  ministry,  remained 
to  witness  His  death  ;  the  women  alone  were  faithful  to  the 
last.    The  Apostles  feared  that  they  might  share  his  fate. 

As  the  sun  went  down  and  darkness  crept  over  Jerusalem, 
what  a  heavy  load  of  sorrow  must  have  weighed  upon  their 
hearts.  He  whom  they  loved,  whom  they  had  so  long  ac- 
companied, upon  whose  words  they  had  hung,  at  whose 
mighty  works  they  had  marveled,  their  Teacher,  their  Leader, 
their  Friend,  had  been  taken  from  them.  His  work  was 
ended ;  the  new  kingdom  of  which  He  had  so  often  spoken 
was  destroyed.  They  would  cherish  His  memory,  they 
would  recall  His  words,  but  the  restoration,  the  new  world 
they  had  expected,  that  had  all  vanished.  Their  hopes  were 
crushed,  they  were  in  utter  despair.  What  a  gloomy  Sab- 
bath the  next  day  must  have  been  to  them.  Did  they  dare 
meet  together  ?  Could  they  bear  to  talk  over  the  defeat  of 
all  their  Master's  plans,  of  his  cruel  death,  of  their  own  dan- 
ger"We  trusted  it  had  been  He  which  should  have  re- 
deemed Israel,"  said  one  of  them  a  day  or  two  after — in 
the  hopeless  tone  which  showed  how  completely  His  death 
had  destroyed  that  trust. 

It  is  necessary  to  bear  all  this  in  mind  while  coming  to 
examine  the  fact  of  the  resurrection.  Notwithstanding  that 
Jesus  had  once  or  twice  told  his  disciples  that  He  should  rise 
from  the  dead,  yet  the  thought  never  once  seemed  to  have 
come  into  their  minds  that  such  a  thing  could  happen.  The 
suddenness  of  the  arrest  and  the  quickness  with  which  the 
sentence  of  execution  followed,  the  awfulness  of  the  mode 
of  his  death,  the  fact  that  all  the  world  was  against  them, 
combined  to  daze,  confound,  paralyze  those  few  men  and 
women,  hiding  themselves  from  the  bitter  enemies  of  their 
Master  ;  and  left  them  scarcely  the  power  to  think.  We  can 
imagine  how  it  would  be  with  ourselves  under  such  circum- 


128 


stances,  when  we  call  to  mind,  as  some  here  can,  the  entirely 
unexpected  death  of  a  very  near  friend — how  it  stupefied  the 
faculties,  took  away  all  power  to  act  and  covered  all  things 
with  the  blackness  of  our  great  grief,  as  if  there  could  never 
be  anything  more  to  do,  save  to  sit  in  sackcloth  and  mourn. 
So  sat  the  disciples  through  the  Sabbath.  They  would  not 
dare  to  go  to  the  temple  nor  take  any  part  in  the  great  Pass- 
over service,  and  they  would  have  no  heart  for  it.  The 
women  were  watching  the  slow  hours  roll  away,  that  as  soon 
as  the  first  chance  should  come  they  might  do  the  little  that 
was  left  their  fond  affections  to  do.  For  the  burial  of  Jesus 
had  been  so  hurried  that  no  suitable  pains  could  be  taken  to 
prepare  the  body  ;  and  this  last  office  these  women,  who  had 
followed  Him  from  Galilee  and  had  ministered  unto  Him, 
were  glad  to  perform.  Renan  says  "the  raptured  enthusi- 
asm of  woman's  affection,  the  hallucination  of  woman's  love, 
gave  back  Jesus  to  his  disciples."  But  we  see  by  the  narra- 
tive that  the  Marys  had  not  entertained  the  possibility  of 
seeing  their  Lord  alive  again.  They  may  all  have  thought 
that  in  some  way,  by  angelic  intervention  or  some  super- 
natural power.  His  death  would  have  been  prevented ;  that 
he  would  have  been  snatched  from  His  enemies  even  at  the 
last  moment  and  concealed,  to  be  presented  again  to  them  ; 
but  now  He  was  dead,  and  what  could  bring  him  back  again. 
The  women  could  carry  their  spices  and  bestow  this  last 
token  of  their  affection  and  sorrow.  That  was  all.  Let  us 
return  and  stand  by  the  tomb  of  Jesus.  With  the  words — 
"  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit,"  the  Son  of 
God  had  died.  The  soldiers  had  made  sure  that  he  was 
dead.  Their  spear  thrust  into  his  side  had  reached  His 
heart,  and  such  blood  as  comes  from  one  who  had  died  of  a 
broken  heart  had  flowed  from  his  side.  Night  was  coming 
on,  and  with  the  sunset  began  the  Sabbath.  The  bodies  of 
the  dead  must  be  buried.  What  could  the  frightened,  scat- 
tered disciples  do  ?  What  could  the  grief-stricken  women 
do  to  prevent  the  remains  of  their  dead  master  from  being 
huddled  into  a  common  malefactor's  grave,  or  perhaps  from 
being  buried  in  the  valley  of  Hinnom.    But  one  comes  for- 


129 


ward,  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  a  rich  man,  who  had  hardly 
dared  to  acknowledge  Christ  while  He  was  alive,  but  in  the 
council  had  not  consented  to  his  death,  and  boldly  ventures 
to  ask  the  body  of  Pilate  and  to  take  the  responsibility  of 
giving  it  burial.  Another  man  of  influence,  the  Nicodemus 
who  came  once  by  night  to  talk  with  Jesus,  assists  Joseph. 
It  was  two  members  of  the  Sanhedrim,  the  great  Jewish 
Council  that  had  condemned  Jesus,  who  take  His  dead  body 
to  the  tomb.  They  believed,  certainly,  that  an  innocent 
man  a  man  worthy  of  all  honor,  had  been  put  to  death.  They 
laid  him  in  a  costly,  rock-hewn  tomb,  close  by  where  he  had 
been  crucified,  just  outside  the  walls  of  the  city.  They 
wrapped  the  body  in  a  cloth  with  the  spices  Nicodemus  had 
brought ;  they  covered  the  face  with  a  napkin,  and  reverently 
laid  away  in  the  rock  the  mangled  form  of  the  great  teacher. 
So  he  made  His  grave  with  the  rich  in  his  death.  These  two 
men  of  note  and  weight  of  character,  members  of  the  Sanhe- 
drim, could  testify  that  the  Man  of  Nazareth  was  dead  and 
buried  And  the  women,  with,  perchance,  John,  watched  to 
know  where  the  burial  should  be  ;  marked  the  spot,  then 
went  to  purchase  spices  and  ointments,  and  rested  through 
the  Sabbath  in  the  anguish  of  buried  hopes  and  despairing 
love. 

The  tomb  is  closed,  a  great  stone  is  rolled  against  its  door. 
When  once  the  Sabbath  day  is  ended,  the  members  of  the 
great  council,  fearful  when  they  remembered  what  Jesus  had 
said  of  rising  again,  asked  that  a  guard  might  be  set  at  the 
tomb  until  the  three  days  were  over.  So  there  was  the 
great  stone,  the  seal  upon  it,  and  the  guard  of  soldiers,  for 
whom  the  penalty  of  sleeping  at  their  post  was  always  death. 
And  he  who  lay  within,  swathed  with  many  bandages,  was 
dead.  What  folly  to  talk  of  His  coming  out  again.  Do  we 
expect  our  dead  to  rise  out  of  their  graves  again .'' 

As  soon  as  the  grey  dawn  began  to  appear  upon  Su,nday 
morning,  the  first  day  of  the  week,  the  faithful  women  were 
astir  to  perform  their  melancholy  task.  As  they  hastened 
along,  the  thought  suddenly  came  to  them,  forgotten  hereto- 
fore in  the  paralysis  of  grief,  how  shall  we  get  access  to  the 
17 


T30 


tomb  ?  Who  shall  roll  away  the  heavy  stone.  They  had 
but  a  few  paces  to  go,  and  as  they  looked  they  saw  forthwith 
that  the  stone  had  been  removed.  Mary  Magdalene,  in  the 
surprise  of  the  moment,  thinking  probably  that  the  body 
had  been  taken  by  his  enemies  to  be  ignominiously  treated, 
ran  as  speedily  as  she  could  to  find  Peter.  The  other 
women  hurried  on  and  looked  into  the  tomb.  There  was  no 
body  there.  What  did  it  mean  >  They  were  affrighted — 
and  well  they  might  be.  Vain  had  been  the  great  stone, 
vain  the  seal  placed  with  so  much  care,  vain  the  soldiers 
keeping  guard  through  the  moonlight  night.  All  the  inge- 
nuity of  Jewish  malice,  all  the  power  of  the  mightiest  earthly 
empire,  could  not  keep  within  that  tomb  the  dead  body  of 
Him  whom  they  had  so  easily  overcome  when  alive.  The 
time  during  which  He  would  yield  himself  to  the  power  of 
death  had  passed  ;  He  arose  from  His  rocky  bed  ;  Nature 
waited  obedient  to  His  command,  and  as  he  laid  aside  the 
death  garments  she  gave  a  mighty  throb  of  joy.  The  earth 
shook  and  the  strong  rocky  door  of  the  tomb  opened  and  the 
great  stone  rolled  away,  and  the  soldier  guards  fell  as  if 
dead,  and  the  Son  of  God  walked  forth  again — henceforth 
conqueror  of  death,  monarch  of  the  tomb.  The  women  saw 
no  form  in  the  niche  where  their  loved  Lord  *had  lain — but 
instead  an  angel,  clad  in  white,  whose  ministries  had  antici- 
pated their  own,  in  reverently  folding  and  laying  aside  the 
grave  garments. 

The  affrighted  women  fled,  to  tell  the  others  what  the 
angel  said,  that  Jesus  had  risen,  even  as  He  had  told  them. 
But  Mary  Magdalene,  with  eager,  impetuous  haste,  had  an- 
ticipated them  with  her  message  of  alarm.  "  They  have 
taken  away  the  Lord  out  of  the  sepulcher  and  we  know  not 
where  they  have  laid  him."  She  was  uoi  the  first  to  receive 
the  tidings  that  Christ  was  living — she  only  as  yet  had  press- 
ing upon  her  heart  this  thought :  His  enemies  have  taken 
and  concealed  His  body  ;  in  their  hate,  not  suffering  it  to  lie 
in  an  honorable  tomb,  they  have  put  it  away  with  the  corpses 
of  criminals.  Startled  at  her  words,  Peter  and  John  run  to 
the  sepulcher.    Peter  enters  and  John  follows — they  see  the 


131 

grave-clothes, — folded,  not  taken  away.  Then  Peter  and 
John  return  to  their  homes  wondering  much,  pondering  what 
this  meant,  for  not  yet  had  it  come  to  them  that  their  Lord 
could  indeed  have  risen  from  the  dead.  No  one  yet  had 
seen  Him  alive.  But  meanwhile  Mary  Magdalene,  following 
Peter  and  John  a  short  distance,  in  their  excited  haste, 
turned  back,  and  came  again  to  the  sepulcher,  and  stood 
there  alone,  weeping  that  even  his  dead  body  had  been  so 
cruelly  snatched  from  her,  that  she  could  not  perform  even 
that  last  office  of  love,  the  embalming  of  it  with  those  spices 
she  had  brought.  The  angels  had  remained  to  comfort  her. 
While  she  was  answering  them,  hearing  a  slight  sound,  she 
turned  and  beheld  in  the  dusk  of  early  morning  a  man  whom 
she  supposed  to  be  the  one  who  had  the  care  of  the  garden. 
As  he  asked  why  she  was  weeping,  she  answered,  that  per- 
haps he  had  removed  the  body,  and  if  so  would  he  not  tell 
her  where  it  was,  that  she  might  take  care  of  it.  But  it  was 
not  the  gardener.  She  had  no  need  to  ask  where  the  body 
of  her  Lord  was.  He  Himself  was  there.  One  word — 
"Mary" — in  the  old,  well-known,  tender  tone  revealed  Him 
to  her  faithful  heart.  Instantly  she  sprang  towards  him, 
would  have  caught  Him  in  her  arms,  but  he  forbade  it.  It 
was  not  yet  the  time  for  so  intimate  communion,  not  yet  the 
time  for  such  worship.  A  little  time  was  He  to  remain  to 
show  Himself  to  His  disciples,  to  meet  them  again  in  Galilee, 
to  give  His  farewell  message,  and  then  should  He  ascend  to 
His  Father. 

After  the  few  words  interchanged  between  Jesus  and  Mary, 
she  with  all  eagerness  ran  to  tell  Peter  and  John  and  the 
others  that  she  had  seen  the  Lord.  Jesus  also  walks  in  the 
same  direction  and  meets  with  the  women.  They  prostrate 
themselves  before  Him  and  hasten  on  with  their  message. 

So  first  Mary,  and  then  the  rest  announced  to  the  won- 
dering, weeping  disciples  that  Jesus  was  risen.  It  seemed 
to  them  like  an  idle  tale.  It  was  not  till  first  Peter,  then 
James,  and  the  two  walking  to  Emmaus  in  the  afternoon,  and 
afterwards  the  whole  eleven  had  met  Him,  talked  with  Him, 
and  eaten  with  Him  that  evening,  that  they  began  to  believe 


132 


in  the  wonderful  fact  that  He  who  had  been  taken  from  them 
was  restored,  and  that  He  who  had  died  was  alive  again  ; 
that  he  was  indeed  Lord  of  death  and  King  over  all  forever. 
One  of  their  number,  the  skeptical  Thomas,  would  not  be- 
lieve until  he  could  put  his  hands  into  the  very  wounds  that 
had  caused  His  death.  According  to  Christ's  command,  the 
disciples  hasten  away  from  Jerusalem  (where  they  could  only 
meet  in  secret),  to  Galilee.  There,  by  the  lake  around  whose 
shores  or  on  whose  waters  they  had  so  often  walked  and 
sailed.  He  met  again,  first,  the  chosen  apostles,  and  then, 
perhaps  on  one  of  the  hills  near  by,  over  five  hundred  of  the 
brethren  at  once.  Then,  when  forty  days  had  past,  Jesus 
and  the  twelve  went  up  to  Olivet,  and,  near  where  Christ  had 
been  crucified  and  buried.  He  ascended  to  heaven. 

As  we  thus  follow  the  narrative  step  by  step,  we  feel 
nothing  else  can  be  true  than  that  Jesus  rose  from  the  dead. 
Nothing  has  so  puzzled  infidelity  and  rationalism  as  to  account 
for  Christianity  without  the  resurrection  as  its  fundamental 
fact.  It  is  evident  enough  that  every  Christian  believed  it 
from  the  beginning.  Every  preacher  of  the  gospel  taught 
it  as  a  truth,  the  primary  truth  upon  which  all  else  depended. 
Paul  went  over  all  the  western  world  preaching  it  as  the 
main  source  of  Christian  hope  and  joy.  It  could  not  have 
been  invented.  The  disciples  were  all  confounded,  paralyzed 
with  grief  and  astonishment  by  the  sudden  and  unexpected 
death  of  their  Master.  They  were  no  more  ready  to  believe 
that  Jesus  would  rise  from  the  sepulchre,  in  which  they  had 
seen  him  laid,  than  you  or  I  would  be  to  expect  that  one  of 
our  friends  whom  we  had  put  away  in  yonder  cemetery  should 
come  to  life  again  and  walk  among  us.  Neither  could  they 
have  been  deceived.  Jesus'  enemies  made  sure  that  he  was 
dead.  They  set  the  watch  and  sealed  the  stone.  When 
Jesus  had  risen  not  one  would  believe  it,  till  he  had  seen  Him. 
As  one  of  them  said,  "  That  which  was  from  the  beginning, 
which  we  have  heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes, 
which  we  have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands  have  handled,  of 
the  Word  of  life,  ....  that  which  we  have  seen  and  heard 
declare  we  unto  you."    And  as  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrec- 


133 


tion  was  just  the  one  of  which  both  Jew  and  Gentile  was 
most  incredulous,  so  was  it  that  concerning  which  the  apos- 
tles were  most  tenacious.  It  was  for  preaching  this  that 
they  suffered  persecution  and  death  ;  it  was  this  that  called 
down  the  scorn  and  bitter  contempt  of  the  Athenian  philoso- 
phers and  Roman  politicians.  But  they  always  put  it  in  the 
forefront  of  their  gospel,  though  it  was  to  the  Jews  a  stum- 
bling-block and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness.  Paul  declares, 
"  If  Christ  be  not  risen,  then  is  our  faith  vain."  All  the  rest 
amounts  to  nothing — that  is,  there  is  no  test  that  this  is  a 
heaven-given  gospel  salvation,  unless  Christ  rose  from  the 
dead.  But  "  Christ  is  risen  from  the  dead  and  become  the 
first  fruits  of  them  that  slept." 

Let  us  now  for  a  few  minutes  think  of  the  connection 
of  this  fact  with  us.  This  Easter  day  proclaims  the 
gladdest  message  that  ever  came  to  man.  It  is  bright 
with  all  hope,  beautiful  with  the  reflected  glory  of  an 
eternal  blessedness.  The  thousands  of  millions  of  earth's 
inhabitants  have  been  marching  in  continuous  lines  through 
the  narrow  door  of  the  tomb.  They  have  entered  and  disap- 
peared, and  no  word  from  them  all  has  ever  come  back  to 
unfold  the  dark  mysteries  there  hidden.  The  grave  was  the 
sad  receptacle  of  friendship  and  love,  of  hope  and  joy. 
Around  it  were  gathered  only  the  dark-robed  angels  of  sorrow, 
anguish,  and  despair.  Friends  did  stand  around  the  graves 
of  loved  ones,  with  this  heavy  feeling  upon  their  hearts  :  ours 
is  an  affliction  that  only  time  can  heal  ;  nevermore  can  we 
meet — nevermore !  Heavy  as  the  earth  lay  upon  the  coffin, 
so  did  despair  weigh  upon  the  hearts  of  men  when  death 
came.  Grim  monarch,  indeed  !  King  of  terrors,  most  truly 
sweeping  into  his  kingdom  of  darkness  the  fairest  and 
sweetest,  the  noblest  and  best,  the  mightiest  and  most 
renowned;  leading  them  into  his  silent  realms,  and  holding 
them  with  unconquerable  power.  But  that  Easter  morning 
came  and  the  earth  shook  and  the  angels  descended  and  the 
Son  of  Man  came  forth  from  the  rocky  prison-house,  where 
death  and  Satan  had  united  their  might  to  hold  Him  fast. 
He  overcame  them  both,  when,  ascending  from  Hades,  He 


134 


took  that  wounded,  mutilated,  lifeless  body  and  brought  it 
forth  from  the  gates  of  death  into  the  bright  light  again. 
What  a  victory  was  there  !  Conqueror  of  that  dread  monarch 
who  had  hitherto  conquered  all  and  held  them  in  trembling 
bondage.  Well  could  the  apostle  exclaim,  "  Death  is 
swallowed  up  in  victory.  Oh,  death,  where  is  thy  sting } 
Oh,  grave,  where  is  thy  victory.?"  And  well  might  the 
Psalmist,  looking  forward  to  this  victorious  contest,  and 
beholding  in  prophetic  vision  the  Son  of  God  thus  coming 
forth  and  ascending  on  high  with  the  fruits  of  His  triumph, 
sing  in  exultant  strains,  "  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates ; 
and  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting  doors  ;  and  the  King 
of  glory  shall  come  in.  Who  is  this  King  of  glory  The 
Lord  strong  and  mighty.    The  Lord  mighty  in  battle." 

Death  and  the  devil  put  forth  their  mightiest  efforts,  they 
strove  to  enter  into  the  very  citadel  of  life  and  holiness,  and 
were  cast  out — overcome,  forever  overcome.  And  the  victory 
was  for  us — for  all  mankind  who  will  put  themselves  on  the 
side  of  the  conqueror.  He  has  "  become  the  first  fruits  of 
them  that  slept."  We  look  at  the  graves  of  our  beloved 
dead,  and  weep,  as  Mary  and  the  disciples  wept  that  first 
Easter  morn.  We  turn  and  gaze  a  moment  at  the  empty 
sepulchre,  and  rejoice  with  blessed  hope,  for  that  means 
that  t/iese  graves  shall  be  empty  too.  They  cannot  hold 
our  dead  ;  they  cannot  hold  us.  We  are  no  longer  clods 
of  the  valley,  but  immortal  spirits  looking  forward  to  eternal 
life.  We  may  come  then  to  the  vacant  sepulcher  and  sing 
for  joy.  Death  is  abolished,  let  us  rejoice  and  be  glad.  If 
Christ  live  then  shall  we  live  with  Him. 

In  those  vast  burial  places  outside  the  city  of  Rome — the 
catacombs — there  are  sometimes  heathen  tombs  right  along- 
side those  of  the  Christians.  The  difference  in  the  emblems 
and  inscriptions  is  wonderfully  suggestive  of  the  new,  glad 
hope  that  had  come  to  the  world  through  the  resurrection  of 
Christ.  On  Pagan  tombs  these  words  often  occur :  "  I  was 
not  and  became  ;  I  was,  and  am  no  more.  This  much  is  true, 
whoever  speaks  otherwise  does  not  speak  the  truth,  for  I 
shall  not  be."    Or  these  :  "  We  all  whom  death  has  laid  low 


135 


are  decaying  bones  and  ashes,  nothing  else."  Or,  once  again, 
"  I  was  nought,  and  am  nought  ;  thou  readest  this  ;  eat,  drink, 
and  be  merry — Come."  How  different  from  the  suggestive 
symbols  of  the  anchor  of  hope,  the  butterfly  bursting  the 
chrysalis,  the  hand  pointing  heavenward,  or  the  simple  in- 
scriptions, "  He  lives,"  "  In  Peace,"  "  Asleep  in  Jesus," 
marked  on  the  Christian  burial  places.  "Asleep  in  Jesus" — 
how  sweetly  tender — waiting  till  He  shall  call,  then  ready  to 
arise  and  enter  into  glory  with  Him. 

And  with  this  transforming  of  death  into  sleep — this  open- 
ing up  of  immortality  to  the  sons  of  men — the  whole  aspect 
of  this  earth  and  all  earthly  relations  and  pursuits  is  changed. 
Christ  risen  from  the  dead  becomes  to  every  believer  indeed 
the  bright  and  morniftg  star,  X.0  guide  us  on  to  new  duties, 
to  new  friendships,  to  new  hopes  and  endeavors.  To  John 
on  Patmos  the  risen  Christ  appeared  and  declared  Himself : 
"I  am  the  first  and  the  last."  "I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was 
dead,  and  behold  I  am  alive  forevermore,  Amen,  and  have  the 
keys  of  hell  and  death."  And  with  these  keys  of  the  lower 
world  and  of  death  he  opens  for  us  the  gates  and  we  look  on 
beyond  the  darkness  of  the  tomb,  and  behold  the  long,  bright, 
undimmed  light  of  eternity — the  realms  of  the  immortal,  the 
glorified  saints,  loved  friends  gone  on  before.  And  the  light 
streams  down  upon  earth  ;  and  the  long  wail  of  misery,  the 
deep  groans  of  despair,  are  hushed  as  one  and  another  look 
up  and  behold  it. 

As  these  Easter  flowers  draw  their  beauty  and  fragrance 
from  all  sorts  of  soil,  and  from  air  and  water,  by  the  wonder- 
ful chemistry  of  the  life-power  within,  so  does  this  Easter 
hope  of  immortality,  this  sweet  power  of  the  risen  Christ 
change  the  bitter  and  harsh,  the  sad  and  sorrowful  elements 
of  life  into  the  glad  and  joyful  heritage  of  faith  and  love  and 
holiness.  Even  this  old  earth  takes  on  a  new  face  from  the 
radiance  of  the  angels  at  the  tomb,  assuring  us  "  He  is  risen  : 
he  is  not  here."  Without  this  life  what  does  this  earth  seem 
to  be  but  a  vast  charnel-house :  what  this  soil  on  which  we 
tread  but  the  dead  dust  of  untold  millions  of  our  fellow-be- 
ings, the  grave-yard  of  buried  hopes  and  loves,  of  joys  and 


136 


delights.  But  as  we  tell  this  Easter  story  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion, the  earth  seems  young  again,  and  beautiful,  and  full  of 
the  brightest  and  sweetest  promise  ;  the  springing  grass,  the 
budding  trees,  the  songs  of  the  birds,  and  the  gay  colors  of 
the  flowers,  all  join  in  repeating  the  tale  ;  death  is  conquered, 
the  tomb  is  opened ;  life,  life  full  and  happy  awaits  us  on 
beyond.  And  the  earth  herself  shall  be  made  over  again, 
and  shall  rejoice  in  the  newness  of  youth.  For  "  the  whole 
creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together  until  now," 
but  it  shall  be  delivered  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God.  The  light  of  the  resurrection  morn  gives  a 
different  hue  to  this  earthly  life,  its  work  and  its  duties. 
Says  one,  "  Life  here  seems  merely  like  the  brushing  of 
wings  along  the  edges  of  existence  ;  before  we  can  know 
anything  of  its  fullness,  before  we  can  do  m.ore  than  taste 
its  delights,  we  are  cut  ofif  and  fly  away."  "  Here  we  have 
no  continuing  city." 

But  Christ  risen  from  the  dead  shows  a  life  continuous — 
one  line,  never-ending,  stretching  on  and  on,  out  into  the 
brightness,  into  the  joyousness,  into  the  perfection  of  exist- 
ence. How  vain  seems  our  work,  our  plans,  our  schemes, 
with  the  grave  for  their  bound  and  the  earth  for  their  sole 
sphere.  The  darkness  cometh  when  no  man  can  work  ;  how 
that  thought  '■  presses  down  upon  us  ;  the  night  of  death," 
and  we  know  not  how  soon.  And  that  will  end  all.  Of  what 
importance  are  your  projects  of  wealth,  your  merchandising, 
your  manufacturing,  of  what  avail  to  you  will  be  the  accu- 
mulation of  stocks  and  bonds,  of  houses  and  lands,  when  the 
swift-coming  darkness  shall  settle  down  upon  you .''  What 
are  greatness,  and  honor,  and  glory,  in  the  land  of  shades 
How  little,  indeed,  is  there  that  we  can  do,  if  we  measure 
plans  and  effects  by  the  few,  short,  fleeting  years  that  we 
may  spend  here,  and  if  there  be  no  hereafter.  But  when 
eternity  opens  upon  us,  what  importance  is  added  to  every 
deed  and  need  and  plan  !  If  our  acts  are  of  the  right  kind, 
they  are  laying  the  foundations  for  eternal  processes  ;  if  our 
plans  are  after  the  laws  of  God,  they  may  go  on  perfecting 
themselves  down  all  the  ages  ;  we  may  be  sowing  the  seed 


■37 


whose  harvests  shall  ripen  during-  all  the  future.  And  so 
this  great  Easter  fact  expands  life,  ennobles  action,  and  glori- 
fies our  position  here  on  earth  ?  And  how  it  lifts  the  spirit- 
ual high  above  all  else,  making  all  that  we  can  say  or  do  for 
Christ  immeasurably  of  more  consequence  than  all  things 
else.  For  there  is  another  truth  always  associated  with 
Christ's  rising  from  the  dead  in  the  New  Testament  which 
we  must  not  dissever  from  it,  if  we  ourselves  would  attain 
unto  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  the  resurrection.  If  we 
be  risen  with  Christ,  then  are  we  dead  unto  sin,  and  we  have 
set  our  affections  upon  things  above.  It  is  the  resurrection 
from  sin  and  death  to  which  we  must  attain. 

We  must  go  through  the  whole  process — dying  with  Him, 
and  being  buried  with  Him,  if  we  would  rise  with  Him. 
"  Because  the  Church  is  the  body  of  Christ,"  says  one, 
"  therefore  Christ  is  forever  crucified  in  the  self-denying, 
forever  buried  in  the  self-forgetting,  forever  risen  in  the  joy- 
ous freedom  of  God."  So  there  will  be  a  perpetual  Easter 
in  that  the  resurrection  is  all  the  time  going  on  in  the  church. 
And  we  must  have  a  part  in  this,  the  first  resurrection,  if  we 
would  also  be  partakers  in  the  second  resurrection. 

And  it  is  precisely  in  proportion  as  we  seize  hold  of  all 
these  associated  truths,  that  the  joy  of  Easter  will  be  most 
refreshing  and  most  powerful  in  our  songs.  If  only  we 
could  fully  believe  and  walk  in  the  light  of  this  great  truth, 
how  would  the  devices  of  sin  all  fly  away  before  its  light, 
and  the  angels  of  God  come  to  dwell  with  us !  How  would 
duty  become  joyous,  and  obedience  to  Christ  the  chief  motive 
of  our  lives,  and  heavenly  love  and  devotion  set  all  the 
courses  of  our  activities  and  make  of  our  lives  a  triumphal 
progress  of  good  deeds  toward  the  heavenly  kingdom. 

And  now  let  this  thought,  in  closing,  fix  itself  in  our 
minds  as  our  Easter  memory.  Because  Christ  rose  from  the 
dead  and  became  the  first-fruits  of  them  that  .slept ;  first  of 
the  thousands  of  millions  that  shall  come  home  to  glory — 
therefore  we  are  born  to  endure,  when  sun,  moon,  and  stars 
shall  have  passed  away.  A  great  preacher  has  said,  "  Behold 
we  stand  alone  in  creation  ;  earth,  sea,  and  sky  can  show  noth- 
i8 


ing  so  awful  as  we  are.  The  rooted  hills  shall  flee  before  the 
fiery  glance  of  the  Almighty  gaze  ;  the  mountains  shall  be- 
come dust,  the  ocean  a  vapor,  the  very  stars  of  heaven  shall 
fade  and  fall  as  the  fig-tree  casts  her  untimely  fruit ;  yea, 
heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  the  humblest,  porrest, 
lowliest  among  us  is  born  for  undying  life." 

If  we  could  look  forward  millions  of  years  after  all  this 
visible  universe  has  dissolved  like  a  dream,  and  other  crea- 
tions have  taken  its  place,  there  would  have  come  no  cessation 
to  our  activities,  no  close  to  our  joys.  All  would  still  be  fresh 
and  young  and  beautiful  to  us  if  we,  indeed,  had  risen  with 
Christ  and  entered  upon  the  life  in  Him. 

Should  we  not  live  then  as  worthy  of  such  a  destiny. 
Citizens  of  an  everlasting  empire,  should  we  not  strive  to  act 
as  becoming  those  so  chosen  }  Heirs  of  an  immortal  crown, 
should  not  our  wishes,  our  aspirations,  all  our  motives  be  de- 
termined by  the  glory  of  the  royal  heritage  Let  us  look 
beyond  and  over  the  base,  the  trifling,  and  act,  speak,  and 
think  as  those  who  see  beyond  the  vale  into  the  bright  and 
blessed  realms  where  Jesus,  our  great  forerunner,  has  already 
entered  ! 


